What Her Mother Taught Her
by Evenly-Baked-Avatar
Summary: She had her father's eyes and her mother's beauty; a dangerous combination. Her mother's lessons, even more so, grooming her to survive, even without her teacher, losing her mother to the dangerous life she had grown too familiar with. She was her father's daughter after all. That was inevitable. Reborn-daughter fic Cover by me
1. Lesson 1: To Love

**Lesson One: Her Mother Taught Her To Love**

* * *

She never liked her name, but her mother taught her to love it. _Ausiliatrice_. It rolled off the child's tongue awkwardly, giving her difficulty to say her own name. Much too long, the child decided, much too difficult for someone her age to pronounce. She envied the way her mother said it; beautifully, as it should be.

 _Ausiliatrice_.

"It was my grandmother's," the woman explained, tilting her head up to blow the smoke away from the child. Her daughter sat in her lap, leaning back on her mother's breasts, enjoying the rhythmic movement and the sound of a hidden heartbeat. This was home, she decided at the tender age of two. Sitting in her mother's lap, pressed against her heartbeat. Home. An unfamiliar concept to both. An unknown concept to the girl. It had only appeared in the ratted books her mother sometimes brought her. This apartment, dingy and rotting with age, was no home to Ausiliatrice. But her mother's arms, rocking her gently with her body as they both gazed out the open window and into the full moon, blissfully ignoring the sounds of streets below them, this was warmth to the girl. This was home.

Tonight was a lights-out night, but a good day. A strange combination. But, a good day meant her mother was in a pleasant mood. A good day was when her mother did not return to her with blood stains and injuries. Ausiliatrice would not complain about this rare occurrence, and it meant that her mother would sit with her and hold her and look at the moon with her, as they did when her mother was in a good mood. A rare occurrence. The small child shifted suddenly, turning up to look at her mother's face, faintly illuminated by the light of the moon.

"I hate my name," she told her mother, scrunching her nose daintily. Green eyes flickered from the open window to the child's face, a small smirk tugging at the corner of the woman's full lips. This conversation, the young girl's statement, the mother's response; it was all an echo.

"You'll learn to love it," her mother chided idly, her free hand intertwined in her daughter's dark, wild locks, "just as I learned to love you, Ausiliatrice."

* * *

She loved her mother's eyes. Emerald, 'like my name' she explained to her daughter. She wanted her mother's eyes very much. She hated her own. But, despite this, Ausiliatrice loved how she looked. Just like her mother. Almost, at least.

Wild curls swayed around her face, which was rounded with childhood youth and fat, hair a darkened coffee of the blackest taste. Only slightly darker than her mother's but close enough to be beautiful. Her nose, a pleasant slope, her lips plump, filled. Just like her mother.

Almost. Ausiliatrice hated that almost.

Her skin was lighter, something else she despised. She wanted her mother's skin; dark, rich, purely radiant, no matter the scars and wounds the speckled it. Her mother was beautiful in every way, even when speaking the foulest language and grunting in pain, face distorted as she set a broken bone in place. She was gorgeous as she nearly yelled at her own daughter for stepping a foot out the door she was told to never to exit without Esmeralda being there to lead her, to protect her. And her eyes, those glimmering eyes that hid so much, but mostly shone with anger and distaste, except those times when she looked into her daughter's eyes with an emotion Ausiliatrice was too young to recognize.

Ausiliatrice had her father's eyes. Black and abyss-like, absorbing light instead of shining with it like her mother's seemed to do.

"You have your father's eyes," he mother would often mutter, staring at her daughter from across the table. The candled flickered uneasily between them, reflecting on the glass bottle, half emptied in her mother's hand. Black eyes tilted towards the wound on her mother's shoulder, the bandage already soaked with red. They returned to the green of her mother's eyes, a much more preferable color to look at.

"Did you love him?" The girl asked boldly. She had no right to speak of this, she knew. At least, not the kind of love that they were discussing. She had only read about this love, between princes and princesses; she had only seen this love, between two strangers the few time her mother let her out with her, sticking right to Esmeralda's side as she watched the two strangers gaze at each other longingly before touching. These were different touches, sometimes simply hands, often times of lips, and occasionally other places that Ausiliatrice was not familiar with. Later in life she would realize that this was not love at all;lust. Lust was the proper name. Not love, but _lust_ (something that the girl, even as a woman would never understand, would never feel, never experience).

"No," he mother sneered, scrunching her nose. The woman shifted, lifting the bottle to her lips as she did so, "but I'll be damned if I didn't love those eyes."

Ausiliatrice hated her eyes. Later she would wonder if it was because she hated her father. No, she would realize. She couldn't hate a man she didn't know. That just didn't make sense; Ausiliatrice would at least have to meet the man before she hated him. That was proper. It was just the eyes that she hated, because they were not her mother's. Emerald. Esmeralda. _Ausiliatrice._

But, her mother loved her eyes. Ausiliatrice could learn to love them too, she decided.

Just like her mother taught her.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I really shouldn't be doing this. Really. But you know, fuck it, stick it to the man and what not. This is rather a short chapter to me, ya' know to test the waters a bit. I probs shouldn't be doing this and focus on my other fic, Life as Cloud, and finish that up, buuuuut, this idea popped in my head and I kind of ran with it. This will continue with a plot of sorts, which can probably be guessed considering this is one of those 'reborn-has-a-daughter' fics._

 _Let me know what you guys think!_

 _-Evenly_


	2. Lesson 2: To Listen

**Lesson Two: Her Mother Taught Her to Listen**

* * *

Ausiliatrice was never much of a talker. Her mother taught her to listen, and listen she did. She much preferred it to talking. She was aware of different languages at a young age. She liked the way they sounded, the words she couldn't understand. She didn't much care to. That is, until her mother reprimanded her for it.

"You need to know what they're fucking saying," her mother scolded, pulling her daughter along after she commented on how pretty the words sounded, the noises jostling against each other harshly in the market place. Heartbeats and rhythms everywhere, but Ausiliatrice only focused on her mother's own vibrations spit firing from her mouth.

"You need to know what people are saying," she continued, "when you don't know, they get ahead of you, and soon enough, you're running after them. You get left behind. They take advantage of you, they use you, they take you for the damned fool you are. You don't want that, right?" The child shook her head quickly and fiercely, her curls swishing with the motion. She didn't want to be left behind. She didn't want to be alone.

"Then _listen_ ," her mother repeated. " _Learn_."

* * *

She pressed her ear against the cold ground, laying her small body flat under the sofa. Her black-abyss eyes followed the man's feet callously as they waded through the small living area. She listened to his footsteps and likened them to a heartbeat. She adored heartbeats. They seemed to be the only constant thing in her life, even this early on. She enjoyed heartbeats of all kinds; the ticking of a clock, the quick lifespan of a ring of a bell, the soft thud-thump of a man's footsteps echoing through the ground, her mother's. She loved her mother's heartbeat.

This was normal, like a heartbeat. A rhythmic pace-keeper to Ausiliatrice's life, just like her and her mother's constant movement. She closed her eyes, and listened. She was good at listening, a valuable skill according to her mother.

"Just close your fucking mouth and listen," she snapped at her, shifting her eyes quickly out the window once more. They were in France, Ausiliatrice thinks, at the time. Months ago, the tells herself. Ah, but time is such a fickle visitor to Ausiliatrice. "Hear all those people?" her mother asked, softer. "Close your eyes. Listen." And Ausiliatrice did. She picked up quick jabs of words, conversation. French, she told herself, just as her mother told her.

"They got no fucking sense," her mother said, green eyes narrowed as she scanned the street below them, "jabbering away, in their own little worlds. Ears shut, mouths open, not even hearing what their own damned mouths are saying. But me and you," the jabbed her head in the direction of her daughter, eyes still shut tight, listening obediently, hanging onto the every word of her mother's, "we're different. We got ears and we're going to use them. We listen first," she told her daughter, gentler, "but don't you dare fucking forget your voice. That needs to be strong too. You got that? You need to be strong."

In her memory, Austiliatrice nodded.

Back in Russia (where they speak Russian, she knew, after listening when they had first arrived), Ausiliatrice pressed her ear harder against the ground, slamming her eyes shut to listen to the man's footsteps, and then, more thuds, traveling quickly. Her mother, she recognized. She knew Esmerada's heartbeats well. This was normal. This is how it always ends. Ausiliatrice listened. The _smack-thunk_ of a weak door being thrown open, the scraping of a man turning on his heel, and her mother's annoyed click of tongue. The millisecond click of a cartridge. Ausiliatrice did as her mother told her to and listened, and listened and _listened_.

Until the gunshots melted into heartbeats.

* * *

The bag clunked heavily on the table, challenging the flimsy wood with its weight. Ausiliatrice knew this bag well; the bag she was never allowed to touch. _Ever_ , her mother emphasized, _until I say so, until you can shoot straight_. She has of yet to say that, but Ausiliatrice is fine with waiting. She was a patient child.

"Always listen," her mother told her, unzipping the bag and pulling out a gun, "to the number of gunshots. Count them," she ordered, looking her daughter straight in the eyes, daunting. "You need to know when you're going to run out, and when they're going to run out." She didn't have to ask who 'they' were.

Her mother proceeded to pull out numerous guns, relaying various numbers, all of which the child nodded, and noted, and gently folded and stored this information away into her mind, already knowing that this would inevitably save her life, even at the age of four. She listened as her mother counted.

Ausiliatrice was a good listener.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So these are going to probably be relatively short for a while, until it picks up a bit. It's almost like small, key memories of her mother before Ausiliatrice's story actually begins. I would say I can probably update this daily for a while, but, ya' know, if I actually_ say _that then we all know that it will never happen. The time skips in this aren't that important, but I can probably safely say, and you can probably safely assume, that they'll be small time skips in between chapters, and even in between some select sections._

 _Guest review responses:_

 **Zebra Cakes:** _Thanks! Hope you stick around and continue to like it!_

 **Random Reviewer:** _Thanks for liking it and reviewing! Hope you stick around as well. It's all chill. I don't mind at all._

 ** _Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows!_**

 _-Evenly_


	3. Lesson 3: To Kill

**Lesson Three: Her Mother Taught Her to Kill**

* * *

"Does it hurt?" Ausiliatrice nodded, biting her bottom lip. Her mother tightened the bandage around the girl's arm, resounding a whimper. Accusing green eyes shot to Ausiliatrice's face, warning.

"It hurts," Ausiliatrice repeated verbally. It was her first gunshot wound; a momentous, and unavoidable occasion. Esmeralda was not there in time, a fact that haunted the woman, seeing the pout - grimace, on her daughter's face. This bothered the woman, angered her even; but her daughter couldn't know that.

"No," Esmeralda corrected her daughter, hands moving from her arm to her daughter's face, cupping her cheeks gently, despite the sharp, hardened look in her eyes, "it doesn't hurt. Never say that. They don't know that you're hurting. They can't know, don't you _fucking dare_ let them know that," she released Austiliatrice's face, "got it? Squash that pain; kill it. Never let it control you." The little girl hardened her expression, and nodded. Her mother dipped her head in approval, pushing herself up and beginning to retrieve the small amount of medical supplies that she had spread across the floor.

Black-abyss eyes followed the woman's movement, ignoring the throbbing heat in her arm, restraining her other from rising to its aid.

It hurt.

But her mother couldn't know that.

* * *

"Pull the trigger."

Ausiliatrice weighed the gun in her hand gingerly, her eyes flickering to the man bleeding out against the wall in front of her. Red spread beautifully from him, the hilt of the knife stuck into his shoulder accenting the wall gorgeously. Esmeralda had done her part, having finished her interrogation easily. Ausiliatrice had counted the man's missing fingers, color seeping from them into the floor. His nose bent at a proud, crooked angle, his lip impressively swollen. His eyes were dead, and his body would follow quickly. A weak heartbeat, Ausiliatrice noted. A weak resolve. Her mother would describe him as pathetic. Ausiliatrice would agree.

"You need to get used to killing," her mother instructed, her warm, just washed hands gently resting on the girl's shoulders, "You need to get good at it, Ausiliatrice. Pull the trigger." Her steady-black eyes shifted from the gun to the man's eyes. An understanding flickered between them. He knew his fate, and there was a grave acceptance of it. She knew her fate as well, she realized, six years old lifting a gun, and that this would be a regular part of it. She would grow used to this, she knew, her mother knew (after all, Esmeralda had always regretted not growing accustomed to killing earlier in her life, and was not going to inconvenience her daughter in the same way).

Ausiliatrice was meant to kill, she knew. She was her mother's daughter.

She was her father's child.

She pulled the trigger with ease, liking the sound of the gunshot; the man's last heartbeat.

* * *

Six women, all scantily clad cooed over Ausiliatrice in an adoring manner, some hands reaching to brush the child's curls, asking questions that Ausiliatrice was too disinterested to answer. Her eyes roamed beyond the entourage that had gathered before her, noting the other woman, barely covered by a thin, short robe, that Esmeralda was walking to meet (nine in the room altogether, counting her mother and herself).

It was meant to be a private conversation, Ausiliatrice knew, watching as her mother and the woman talked in hushed tones. The stranger stood tall, a leader, proud and beautiful. Her heartbeat would be strong and admirable, Ausiliatrice imagined, similar to her mother's. The woman lifted a curtain to one of the doorways in the room and led Esmeralda in. Ausiliatrice relaxed as she was picked up, invited into one of her admirer's laps in a high sitting chair.

This was a safe place, she knew. Her mother would not have left her here if not. Good people, she decided as well, no matter how touchy they were with the small girl.

Occasionally, some would leave the room and others would return. They retreated to their vanities, scattered around the room, taking money that was messily stuffed into their clothing, counting it mercilessly, and then storing it carefully in different places. Ausiliatrice was shuffled around to different women, who she found different in every way, interesting in each of their aspects. The girl liked listening to their words, how they sounded. She asked to hear their heartbeats and they obliged, albeit amused, if not confused. Although she enjoyed their company, she eventually wandered to the curtain her mother had entered.

Three woman remained in the room, all occupied at their mirrors. Ausiliatrice fingered the curtain gently, lifting it to peek in. Her mother sat on one arm of a large, worn couch that mirrored the aesthetic of the rest of the building. A disgruntled expression was on her face as she took another drag of the cigarette she held, her eyes a storming emerald.

"You'd think they'd just fuck off," she muttered, her attention focused solely on the woman sitting on the other arm. She had disregarded her robe completely, leaving her chest bare, only wearing a thin piece of underwear to cover her bottom half. Her expression was more relaxed, patient, much more than Esmeralda's (but often, that was not an impressive feat).

"You know more than me," she said, voice surely and melodic, "that they won't do that, not until you're dead."

"You forgot about my brat," Esmeralda spat. Ausiliatrice stiffened at her mention. "They're out for her too. She's growing fast. I took a liking to the brat; didn't think I would when I first got myself knocked up," she admitted callously, with a small smirk of pride, "Killed her first bastard last year. Two more since then."

"Ah," the woman breathed out, "already, huh? Sad."

"Necessary," Esmeralda corrected. "You know that, Ana."

"Aren't you tired?" the woman asked lethargically, slipping off the arm rest and onto the couch, now facing fully away from Ausiliatrice, "of running, I mean."

"You know I won't be caught. Can't be caught," Esmeralda spat, clicking her tongue in annoyance, her head turning sharply towards Ausiliatrice, startling the child with her sudden eyes contact.

"Except by one," the woman drawled, her voice quirking in amusement, "invite your brat in. I want to see her." Esmeralda gestured with her head and Ausiliatrice obeyed instantly, ashamed by her naive eavesdropping. And yet, there was a warmth to the situation. Esmeralda knew she was listening the moment the girl peeked in, adding truth to her words. Her mother pulled her up onto the couch in one movement. Closer now, she took in the features of the other woman.

Her skin was a lovely, smooth velvet-black, much darker than her mother's, and her eyes were impossibly duskier, similar to Ausiliatrice's own. Perhaps seeing this part of herself in the woman comforted the child, along with the immense calmness that radiated from her. Her presence was that of rainclouds, tranquil, but immensely powerful, on the verge of breaking.

Wrinkled hands, the only hint that gave away her true age, cupped the girl's face gently, her eyes crinkled as her dark eyes moved up the child's face, taking in every feature. Ausiliatrice raised her own hand, and pressed it on the outside of the woman's wrist. Ausiliatrice had been right about her heartbeat. Her expression dropped when she reached her eyes, and Ausiliatrice almost frowned noticing this.

"That's problematic," the woman said, "even I recognize those eyes, and I've been out of the game for years. He wasn't as big when I started and now…" she trailed off, tearing her eyes away from Ausiliatrice and back to her mother. "I see why you're being so cautious."

"Never gonna have a normal life, that's for sure," her mother commented, blowing smoke over Ausiliatrice's head, "he made damned sure of that."

"You said you wanted a man with power, but this," she trailed, shifting back to the girl, "was too ambitious, Esme." Her mother shrugged casually, fingers moving to meander through Ausiliatrice's dark curls.

"I'm an ambitious girl," she mused.

"Ah, where are my manners," the woman blinked, waving her hand in the air lazily. She looked back at Ausiliatrice, leaning forward slightly. "I'm Mariana, an old friend of your mother's."

"Ausiliatrice," she introduced herself politely, just as her mother had taught her. Esmeralda snorted.

"Old is right," she drawled, causing Mariana to frown.

"Only because you're so young. What, your daughter seems to be seven or eight, not older than ten," Mariana guessed, looking over Ausiliatrice once more.

"Seven," Esmeralda supplied, "birthday next month." Mariana's body tensed, and Ausiliatrice watched in curiosity as the woman came to a very sudden realization. Ausiliatrice leaned back slightly, watching rainclouds shifting to storms.

"Seventeen," Marina breathed out, leaning back on the couch and letting her head fall back, her tone sounding disappointed, angered? Disbelief? Ausiliatrice could not name the emotion. "You got knocked up at seventeen. The _fuck_ , Esme. I don't even have any girls that young here!" Her head snapped up suddenly. "The fuck were you thinking? You don't tell me shit for nine years and I have to find out you got pregnant through my network, and now I learn that you had the kid at _seventeen_?"

Anger, Ausiliatrice decided at that moment, with a hint of disappointment. But this was a different type of anger than she was used to. It wasn't burning rage, like her mother's. This rage was quiet, silence of the deadliest kind, only showing through Mariana's dark eyes. A rain filled, flooding storm.

"It's not my fucking fault that was the only way out," her mother remarked, "like hell I was going to rot like that. I'm not a fucking house wife, and you know that. It was the best way to disgrace that bastard."

"That bastard was your fath-"

"Don't you fucking dare try to call him that!" Her mother shouted suddenly, causing Ausiliatrice to move forward quickly, away from her mother. She turned back to see her mother seething, even on the verge of tears. This was new, she noted, settling in between the two woman, the one, true neutral in the room.

"That man was never a father to me."

Silence. Green eyes shifted to the child, shame, embarrassment overtaking the anger. She snarled and looked away, taking another drag from her cigarette before angrily throwing it on the ground. She shifted herself to step on the ashes, killing them efficiently. The older woman watched with sad eyes, giving time for Esmeralda to calm herself.

"You know you could have come to me," Mariana reminded her in a soft tone, "you always ha-"

"It was my problem, Ana," Esmeralda snapped suddenly, "I dealt with it alone."

"Like hell," Mariana hardened, retaking her ground, "you brought a fucking kid into this," she roughly gestured at Ausiliatrice with her hand, "you aren't alone anymore. You can't keep doing this, Esmeralda, you're a mother, for fuck's sake. You can't just wander around, running for all your life. You may be a typical cloud, but your daughter's sure as hell not one yet. And with who her father is, she's in even more danger."

"I'm protecting her," Esmeralda shot, looking away in anger, in shame, in slight realization, but that was hidden quickly by anger again. "I'm teaching her."

"As much as you'd like to think you are, you're not enough to keep her safe. As long as you're carting her around, as long as she's his daughter, she'll never be safe," Mariana reminded her harshly. Esmeralda rose quickly, grabbing Ausiliatrice's arm and moving towards the curtain.

"Fuck this," she dismissed, growling, "I don't need to hear this."

"Esme," Mariana called out, standing as well. "Please," she said, softer. Her mother stopped, standing with her back towards her old friend. Ausiliatrice looked between the two older women, listening intently, silently, as she always does.

"You know you always have a home here," Mariana offered, "you and Ausiliatrice." Esmeralda left out a puff of dry laughter.

"After than whole argument? You know I won't do that to you," she answered without turning back. "I've killed that life, and everything that went with it. We're on our own," her mother said, squeezing her daughter's hand gently, "and that's how we like it."

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I should be writing my satirical essay, but you know, I just got distracted. Although, I am pretty pumped about it, since it's about homophobia and the treatment of different sexualities, so yeah, I have a lot to say on it. Ah, off topic._

 _These are getting longer, thanks god. Next few chapters will probably still be pretty short until Ausil gets to be around...? 15? 16? Teenage. Then things start progressing more. Whoop. Whoop. God, I love how destructive Esmeralda is._

 _Anyways, thanks for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing!_

 _Oh, and note: you can call Ausiliatrice Ausil if you want so you don't have to type her entire name out. Whatever floats your boat, bruh._

 ** _Review Responses:_**

 _ **Random Reviewer:** Well, I'm happy that you're here to stay. I'm glad your like the relationship as well, since that's something I strive for, seeing that relationships are one of the things I look for in stories and such. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Zebra Cakes:** Sorry this update wasn't as fast (school has started up. Senior year is going to be a bitch). Thanks for the review!_

 _-Evenly_


	4. Lesson 4: To Hide

**Lesson Four: Her Mother Taught Her to Hide**

 **Age: 8-10**

* * *

It wasn't hiding. No, Esmeralda was far too prideful to call it that. It was being discrete. It was being adaptable. It was never staying long enough for warmth. It was never having any belongings for Ausiliatrice to truly call her own. It was never having a home.

It was freedom, to Esmeralda. And that was something Ausiliatrice never understood. Freedom wasn't being chased from place to place. Freedom wasn't being forced to pack up and move. Freedom wasn't killing those who knew their location. Freedom wasn't blood and murder, or bullets and guns, or knifes, or death.

But did Ausiliatrice really, truly know what freedom meant? No. She was far too young and inexperienced to have her own definition.

But, she was not young enough to know that this kind of freedom, the kind her mother clung to dearly and desperately to; this was not the freedom she wanted.

Hiding, she knew, was not freedom.

But her mother didn't call it that, and Ausiliatrice learned to hide her thoughts well.

* * *

She met her mother's eyes; green clashing awfully against bright onyx (confirmed, ready, but not scared, never scared. Esmeralda made sure to beat that out of the child quickly). She tossed her the gun as the door was slammed into.

"Hide."

Her mother blew the candle out, which had recently been the only light in the room. Ausiliatrice dove for the small hallway, pushing her back firmly against the wall. Eyes open, adjusting to the darkness far quicker than her mother ever could, she counted the footsteps of the intruders. Three men. One light footed, leading. The heaviest in the back.

She waited. She listened. She watched, carefully, as the first shape passed her position and moved onward in the room she had just been sitting in. A tall, lanky man, she could tell from his shape. She aimed for what she thought was the nape of his neck. She thought right, pushing herself from the wall and running out of the hallway, entering the room and securing herself in the corner before his body even hit the ground.

Footsteps followed, but this is what she knew would happen. Shooting would give away her location, obviously, and so she was prepared to flee. This was natural. She was used to this.

She heard choking sounds from the other room. Her mother was taking care of the largest advisory, it seemed.

Four bullets left.

She shot the man who followed her in the middle of the forehead before he could turn around to aid his companion. Mother always liked it when she shot people like that. Clean. Neat. As long as it was seen from the front. In one perspective, if done right, it could be seen almost as beautiful as the death that accompanied it. Ausiliatrice lingered on the other perspective a little too much for her liking.

In the forehead, so the gun wound could be shown off proudly, her mother always told her.

The girl slumped against the wall, waiting, listening, as her mother always told her to do when this happened.

She was happy to hide in the dark if it meant she wouldn't have to look at corpses of those she killed.

* * *

Her mother indulged in many sexual relationships, and Ausiliatrice had witnessed her sort through numerous partners in her lifetime.

"You have a kid?" one asked, head tilting slightly to the side, spying Ausiliatrice from her spot in the corner. The child didn't even bother looking up at the man, knowing this conversation well enough.

"Yeah," Esmeralda slurred, slipping into his lap as her arms slipped around his neck, straddling him and began layering sloppy, drunken kisses along his neck. This left her words mumbled, disordered, distracted. Ironic, Ausilitrice would always note, that she would feign distraction while she was doing so well distracting them.

"Asshole knocked me up."

Asshole, she would always say when talking about him to them.

"That man," she would say, when talking to Ausiliatrice late, late at night. Drunk. Holding a bottle. Still drinking. "That man… he su' was something." And her eyes were glazed with a look that Ausiliatrice did not understand, nor did she have the curiosity to. But that look was unique. Different. Not like the looks she gave the others who come and went but never came back. They were never talked about afterwards. Not like her father was.

"I actually had to talk to him, ya' know?" Esmeralda sputtered one day, sprawled out on the stone-cold floor. Ausiliatrice watched her silently from her position on the only chair in the room, the one, thin, ragged blanket in their possession wrapped around her thin shoulders. Esmeralda laughed and rolled on her side.

"Wiggling my ass and shaking my breasts in his face just didn't get them 'ike the others," she recalled with a sloppy smile. "Actually had to talk to the bastard! Get 'im interested. Talked about offin' people at first," she continued, her smile dropping. "Damn, could that man kill. Bastard just loved getting complimented. Got him off." Her eyes drooped and her earlier smile was completely gone. Faded.

The dream was over.

But Esmeralda kept sleeping. She tried to recreate it, with the others. This is what Ausiliatrice thought. This is what she theorized. Why else would her mother go through so many people? She was never truly happy afterwards. But was she ever really happy? Did their life, as it was, ever have any room for happiness?

"Fu- Dammit, brat, get the hell out!" Esmeralda would say, shooing her out the door, recovering from where the other woman had nearly dropped Esmeralda. Her mother glared at her as the other woman turned away, embarrassed and covering her breasts, her shirt having already been torn off by Esmeralda on the way up.

"Scram, brat," Esmeralda would spit before slamming the door shut, leaving Ausiliatrice alone in the hallway. The girl turn around and leaned against the door, sliding against it until she was sitting, hugging her knees and staring at the number written messily in marker on the door in front of her.

Ausiliatrice got the message:

Scram.

Leave.

Hide.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Remember when I said I maybe could update every day? Ha. Hahahah. Ahem._

 _I decided to start putting ages to make it easier on you guys. I will continue to do so until a certain point in the story where it stops skipping/summarizing years and the plot start picking up._

 _Sorry I haven't updated in so long! School's been a bitch, per usual. I've been writing so many papers that I almost start a bibliography yesterday to source LAC. Although, I don't mind writing the papers, since it's pretty easy, it's just annoying that there were so many at the end of the semester. Sigh. Also, I'm obsessed with Neko Astume, so there's that. Also Hamilton. And I keep picturing Ausil and Angelica._

 **Review Responses:**

 **Guest (Chapter Three, Nov 12):** Ausil will definitely meet Reborn in later chapters :) Thanks for the review!

 **Guest (Chapter Three, Sep 3):** Fuck, that is a lot of pleases. I am impressed. Here's an update! Also, I updated my other story the other day! Aren't you proud? Thanks for the review!

 **fellow (Chapter Two and Three):** D'aw, thanks. I'm enjoying writing the serious aspect of this as well. It's a nice change. Thanks for the review!

 **Kamikorosu:** Thanks for the love and the review! I may add filters later, when more characters get introduced? I somewhat feel like that will verge into spioler-y territory as of now? Eh, that may just be me being weird. But thanks!

 **Zebra Cakes:** Thanks! Well, I sure am glad you can wait, because I suck at updating. I may be able to update again soon because I'm on break, but that will probably depend on inspiration through reviews and how much I'll be working on my other story. Thanks for the review!


	5. Lesson 5: To Wait

**Lesson Five: Her Mother Taught her to Wait**

 **Age: 10-16**

* * *

 _Death doesn't discriminate_

 _Between the sinners and the saints,_

 _it takes and it takes and it takes_

 _and we keep living anyway._

 _We rise and we fall_

 _and we break_

 _and we make our mistakes._

 _And if there's a reason I'm still alive_

 _when everyone who loves me has died_

 _I'm willing to wait for it._

 _I'm willing to wait for it._

 _I am the one thing in life I can control_

 _I am inimitable_

 _I am an original_

 _I'm not falling behind or running late_

 _I'm not standing still,_

 _I am lying in wait_

 ** _\- "Wait for It", written by Lin-Manual Miranda, performed by Leslie Odom Jr._**

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Esmeralda barely glanced over at her daughter, then hesitated, her eyes lingering on the bandages around the girl's torso and stomach. The old, wretched car that they had stolen (killed a man for) jumped and veered.

"Fuck!" Esmeralda spat, and swerved the car back onto the nearly indistinguishable dirt road, running through the middle of the wild savanna. Ausiliatrice blinked, then returned to looking out the window and viewing the wild life of this new, interesting place. Herds of gazelles, zebras, _families_ had run alongside them and then veered to the distance away. She had seen the long stalks of giraffes in the distance, usually around the small clumps of trees found every few miles or so.

Ausiliatrice has gotten hurt. Badly too, and had just now somewhat recovered enough to travel.

There was a change, Ausiliatrice noticed, in her mother. Esmeralda didn't view her the same, was far more careful around her. The young girl didn't know what to think of this, but was not the one for confrontation at this age.

But she notices things. _Holy fuck_ , Esmeralda often thought, do those eyes take in everything. She had noticed how they were being attacked more often, more people following them, closing in on them. And it was only getting worse, Ausiliatrice realized. And it wouldn't stop until they were dead, Esmeralda knew. Both of them.

Which was why they had traveled here and continued through the African savanna, nearly in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from the closest town, and even that was small. The sun was setting soon, Ausiliatrice noticed, looking in the rear view mirror. The end of another day.

With her keen eyes, that saw far, far too much, Ausiliatrice soon spotted what they were driving towards.

Settled comfortably in the middle of a clump of trees, providing some shade, was a stilted, tall house. Wooden stairs, the same material as all the house, led upwards to a large porch, shaded too in areas by outreaching branches. It was a medium sized, quaint house. In front of the house was a single, old and very used looking jeep, which they parked beside, dust billowing behind the vehicle as they did. Esmeralda wordlessly got out, and gestured to her daughter, who hurriedly jumped out and followed her mother up the steps and to the porch.

Ausiliatrice quickly surveyed the area, sweeping the ground with her eyes as she went up the stairs. They lingered on a large, clearly feline foot print on the ground below the house, and then continued on to take in the details of the porch. It took up most the house, and was half way covered with the roof, which jutted out and provided shade. A round table stood on it, already littered with bottles, most empty, one not but already opened, positioned closer to the house than the railings, which looked out over the great expanse of the savanna. The wall of the house itself held one single door and then a small, screen window. Ausiliatrice stayed behind, her eyes looking out to the savanna.

This feeling? Was it longing? Her heart felt seized with this, whatever it was, as she looked and looked and wanted. But what? She did not know at this point in her young life, and wondered if she ever would.

But, she thought, closing her eyes for once, and listening, to the sounds, the noises of the savanna. She enjoyed the heartbeat she heard here.

Esmeralda roughly knocked on the door, and then paused, pulling her shirt down a bit more to reveal more cleavage, and then messing with the already cropped bottom of her shirt, showing more abdomen. She then crossed her arms, and jutted her hip, waiting. The door opened.

Esmeralda stared down the barrel of the rifle that greeted her, her green eyes fiery and fierce, as they always, always were.

"…. Esme?" It was a hollow, tragic sound. Ausiliatrice shifted her position slightly, watching as the woman let her rifle fall almost lifelessly, and stared, gaping at her mother.

She looked to be of Arabic descent, or at least middle eastern, with an olive skin tone, tanned from year of exposure. She looked to be the same age as her mother, but worn. Tired. She had light brown eyes, and choppy, dark brown, short hair, framing her face messily. One piercing on her nose. She stared at Esmeralda openly, longingly, sadly. As if seeing a ghost she had been trying to run away from.

"I thought…" the woman breathed out finally in Arabic, with a disbelieving, breathy smile. Happy? No, Ausiliatrice decided. This was not happiness from a reunion. This was longing, lust even. Obsession.

"I thought you were gone, Esme…" she breathed out again, looking other her mother's body and quivering almost, "you left, and then I didn't know I-" she stopped, looking past Esmeralda and seeing Ausiliatrice for the first time. Her expression fell and Ausiliatrice witnessed so many things pass through those eyes.

Anger, rage, disbelief. Hurt. Heartache.

"That's the kid, isn't it?" She said, then sneered, looking back at Esmeralda angrily. So that's what she decided on. The emotion she settled with, Ausiliatrice thought. Anger, and so much of it, years of it.

"I need your help, Rashida," Esmeralda said calmly, in Arabic as well.

"So what? You think that you can just come and find me after all these years?" Rashida spat, moving past Esmeralda, past Ausiliatrice, refusing to look at the girl, and grabbing the open bottle on the table, rifle still in hand, "I guess you need help, huh?" she sneered, shaking her head and taking a long drink.

"Look, I know I left-"

"Fuck yeah you left!" Rashida turned back suddenly, waving the rifle a bit and gesturing with it. "I thought you did it for us, Esme! But no, you just got yourself knocked up, and then left without saying a damn thing!" Esmeralda calmly approached the woman as she continued ranting, much calmer than Ausiliatrice had ever seen her mother.

"I didn't think-"

"The hell you mean you didn't think?" Rashida snapped, "What else was I supposed to think when you did that, huh? You knew, you knew damned well-" She stopped suddenly, Esmeralda having come closer, and stopped her words with a rough kiss. Rashida closed her eyes and nearly fell into it. Her rifle clattered to the ground. Esmeralda snaked her hand to hers, retrieving the bottle from it, and taking it. Breaking the kiss, but not moving away, still close, so close, she lifted the bottle to her own lips and then set it gently on the table.

"I _did_ know," she said sultrily, almost whispering in the woman's ear. Ausiliatrice could see Rashida's body shaking, shivering. She had never seen her mother affect someone so deeply. It was a weakness, Ausiliatrice realized, one that her mother was a professional at exposing and poking, examining, and using to her advantage. And she had no regrets, not one. She wasn't doing this for herself, after all, Esmeralda reminded herself, barely tracing Rashida's hip with her hand, and slowly lifting her eyes to meet the eyes of an old flame that she felt nothing for (that she never felt anything for).

She was doing it for her daughter. _Ausiliatrice_. For Reborn. For the possibility of her surviving, and perhaps, maybe, them meeting some day. Reuniting.

"I need your help," she whispered, then leaned away, walking around her to sit at the table, finishing off the bottle before setting it down, clinking, echoing against the wood. Rashida stood, almost paralyzed by the events that just happened, then lurched, and whipped around.

"You need help?" She repeated, emotionlessly, then gutted out cold, hollow laughter. "You think you can seduce me into doing what you want? Just like everyone else?" Esmeralda hummed slyly, propping her head and placing her elbow on the table as she leaned forward.

"I think I just did," she pointed out with a sly smile. Rashida hesitated, caught in her fall, caught in Esmeralda's web, her hold strong over the other woman. And she couldn't deny this.

"I could have helped you," she said quietly, hanging her head, "years ago. When this started." She lifted her eyes, turning slightly and looking back at Ausiliatrice, the child.

"We could have had a life together, Esme," she said quietly, stated.

"I could have had a lot of lives, with plenty of people," Esmeralda responded coldly, "but I'm just not that kind of woman, am I?" There was a pause, then Rashida nodded, agreeing. A cold sneer.

"Yeah, that's just who you are, huh?"

Because once Esmeralda's mind was made up, she knew, looking at Ausiliatrice, her daughter, and once it was made up? Well, she was never the type to return to things.

Ausiliatrice swallowed, her throat dry. She understood so much in this world, for one so young.

And she understood her mother's look perfectly.

"So you're just going to leave her here with me, huh?" Rashida asked coldly, crossing her arms, and looking out, away from the two.

"You're the only one I can trust," Esmeralda said sadly, not breaking eye contact with her daughter, who knew, she knew, she knew so well, too well. Rashida seemed surprised, shocked, honored by this. Her face softened, and she looked at Esmeralda's face, still beautiful, young looking, retaining her youth still, for as much as she has done, as much as she has suffered and had made others suffered. Esmeralda has made Rashida suffer so much.

Without an answer, without confirming anything, Esmeralda rose, and walked past Rashida, giving her one last look, a warning? Before walking to Ausiliatrice. She stared down at her daughter, and then walked on, pausing at the steps. Her eyes flashed, an unfamiliar feeling, and Ausiliatrice could see her mother tense, almost jerk as if wanting to do something, an action that the brain, the heart, the personality, that Esmeralda herself was not familiar with.

She was not one for goodbyes, after all. They both knew this well.

Esmeralda hesitated, looking back, gazing at her daughter, her own flesh and blood that she had been carting around with her for ten years, and then went forward suddenly, startling Ausiliatrice greatly.

It was an unpracticed action, and that was clear; a chaste, rough kiss on the forehead. Esmeralda lingered after, her lips still barely brushing against the skin of her daughter's forehead.

Despite Rashida watching, bristling, behind them, this exchange remained private, between the mother and daughter in the middle of nowhere, on the porch of a stranger, or an old lover that still loved too much.

"Listen, brat," she breathed out, barely above a whisper, and Ausiliatrice listened intently, memorizing her mother's voice, knowing what this was, "Remember what I taught you, got it? Because even if I don't come back," _she wouldn't_ was the silent exchange, but not because Esmeralda did not want to return, no; death had been chasing her for far too long, and it was time, Esmeralda decided, to chase back.

"Even if I don't come back," she repeated, her body jerking, holding back a sob, Ausiliatrice realized, "you still learn from me, got that? I'm still teaching, hear that brat?" Ausiliatrice blinked, then met the eyes of her mother. Esmeralda hesitated, then reached into her pocket, bringing out a crumpled envelope and gently putting it in the girl's hands, making sure her fingers closed around it.

"You've got your old man's eyes, you know that?" Esmeralda noted quietly, caressing her daughters face before taking her hand to the back of her head, and pushing forward gently until their foreheads were touching.

"I like you a lot more than I thought I would," she admitted with a sad cough of laughter. Ausiliatrice went forward suddenly, pressing her ear firmly against her mother's chest.

This, she knew, was the last time she would hear this heartbeat.

This was a goodbye. The last one.

Esmeralda had never hesitated so much in her life, and yet, with this child, she often found herself surprised. She nodded once, and the child let her mother go. Esmeralda rose and turned quickly, not wanting to look back anymore, because when did she ever do that?

"Don't die," she told her daughter, and then indicated her head slightly up, referring to the other woman, "and take care of my kid."

And with those words, and a harsh goodbye and severing a strange, and yet oddly beautiful relationship, she left.

Ausiliatrice stood there, still kneeling, staring as her mother went down the stairs. She then got up suddenly and went to the railing, leaning over and watching, intently watching as Esmeralda entered the vehicle and left, she left, dust ruffling behind her and silhouetted by the large array of colors that was the sunset.

The end of a day.

Ausiliatrice took all this in with her black, abyssal eyes. Her father's eyes. She blinked once, but her eyes were dry, and she knew that there wasn't any sense in mourning.

She's not dead yet, she told herself,

foolishly.

She'll come back, she continued, and take her back, and it will be like a story book ending. Getting what they deserved.

But she did not know what her mother deserved, and she knew this story to be false.

But,

she could wait. She would wait, she decided, until her mother returned, and grow strong for her in the mean time.

After all; that's what her mother taught her.

* * *

The girl lifted a single hand, putting it in between the sun and her face, blinking her eyes, fanning her long lashes prettily. Her long, gorgeous hair lay sprawled, backgrounding her, masses of curls and waves. She shifted, bringing her knee up and felt her body relax once more. Her skin, not as dark as her mother's, but still tanned and darkened by spending six years under the sun of the savanna, was hot, but in a pleasant way that Ausiliatrice was used to.

Perhaps this, out in the open, wilderness, the savanna, was another home to her. She felt that she belonged, here, among predators. Above prey. In the sun, in the open; this felt like freedom to her, and perhaps she was now old enough to decide this. Six years she had lived here. Six years since her mother had left her. She closed her eyes, her hand still raised, and listened, listened hard and was silent, listening to her own heart beat, and breathing out sharply, listening keenly as it seemed to merge with the rhythms around her; the heart beat of the savanna, her own heart beat intermingled.

Her eyes snapped open, the deafening rhythm now gently fading. She let her hand fall, and rolled her head to the side, looking at her companions, not even ten feet away.

The eyes of the lioness, the largest and most proficient of the pride met Ausiliatrice's. The feline shifted, and then rolled to its other side, deciding that sleep was much more important than the girl.

But this was how it always went.

Ausiliatrice, pushed herself up and to her feet, grabbing her discarded shirt, and putting it swiftly back on. She reached for her gun, causing the sole lion's eyes to snap open as he slowly lifted his head, watching intently as Ausiliatrice placed the weapon in its halter at her hip. She met his eyes and paused, then, slowly, put one finger to her lips.

" _Shhhss_ …" she whispered quietly, maintaining eye contact, secretly pleased that it did not look away as others, people, humans, usually did. It blinked lazily, and yawned, then returned its large head to its earlier position, resting on crossed paws. Content with this, Ausiliatrice began backing away from the large pride, not turning her back until she was a considerable distance away. She stopped, viewing them once more, and feeling a pang. With her keen eyes, she saw as a lion cub shifted, then rub it's head on the stomach of its mother, consequently kicking its sibling in the process, causing a it too grumble, then growl. The sibling looked ready to defend, but the mother made one sound, not even bothering to look at her offspring. They were quelled. And then peace returned to the pride, after such a small disturbance.

 _Family_. _Love_.

Ausiliatrice longed for that. To find her own pride, to be among her own.

It was a maybe, a perhaps, that she would achieve this, if she truly wanted to. But for now, she was waiting. For her mother? Or for herself? She didn't know.

Ausiliatrice turned once more and began running suddenly, smiling smally as she felt her long hair fly back and the wind against her mostly exposed body. She reached out long arms and grabbed a branch, easily pulling herself into the tree gracefully, and making her way further up. She skillfully balanced herself on a branch, and walked out over the porch of the house she had been running towards, nestled in a cluster of trees in nearly the middle of the savanna. She let herself fall, then caught the branch, bouncing it, before falling completely, and soundlessly dropping onto the large porch.

"The fuck you never use the stairs?" Rashida snapped at her, leaning on the railing with a cigarette and coldly watching Ausiliatrice, having witnessed her climb. Ausiliatrice didn't answer, and instead lifted her arms back to run through her hair and shake her head, dislodging dirt, sand, twigs. Rashida rolled her eyes, and looked to the distance again, not having expected much of an answer in the first place and looked for a distraction, anything not to look at her teenage charge.

"I don't get why you don't kill one of those lions," Rashida noted dryly, squinting her eyes and gazing at the pride, barely seen in the distance.

"It would be wrong," Ausiliatrice said simply. The older woman scoffed.

"Who are you to say right from wrong, huh?" She barked, glowering, "Was it wrong to kill that gazelle last week? The zebra the month before?" Rashida glanced over at Ausiliatrice, who had paused in the doorway of the house. She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes and assuming that the girl was simply going to ignore the question.

"We're equals," She said suddenly. Rashida paused, then looked back at the girl, and as usual, winced, meeting her intense abyssal eyes.

"We both predators," Ausiliatrice continued, looking out towards the resting pride again, "and we understand that. There's no need to cause conflict." Rashida tore her eyes away for the girl, feeling a cold shiver run down her spine as she always did when looking directly into Ausiliatrice's eyes.

"You're fucking weird," she sighed, shaking her head and going down the stairs herself, heading for the devastated jeep. But, she recalled sadly, longingly, calling someone else strange as well, someone that looked so much like the girl. Rashida paused, gripping the handle of the door harshly.

It hurt. From her god damn gut.

"We need more fruit," Ausiliatrice called, startling Rashida. The woman looked up suddenly, squinting her eyes against the sun filtering through the thin layer of leaves. There was a small intake of breath, and Rashida almost hungrily took in the angelic form of the girl above her, eyes raking over her body that was developed now, like her mother's, just like Esmeralda when she was this age, so much like the woman she loved. From here, her eyes did not look unnatural as they usually did, but instead seemed to be a product of the sun behind her form. So much like her mother. So much like her only love.

"You are going into town, aren't you?"

Rashida threw the door open suddenly, and almost fell into the car without answering. As she drove away, she glanced into her rear-view mirror, seeing Ausiliatrice gracefully jump down from the porch, and angle herself towards the savanna, once again looking at the pride.

If she was lucky, Rashida thought, Ausiliatrice would run out and never return. But then, she would be lost again, with nothing to remind her of Esmeralda. Emptiness for years, _again, again, again_.

Rashida let out a ragged breath, forcing herself to look away. She had to, she told herself, stop seeing her in Ausiliatrice. And yet,

It hurt. It hurt so much.

* * *

Rashida did not come back at sunset, like usual. But Ausiliatrice wasn't worried. Although, she appreciated the woman for taking care of her during Ausiliatrice's younger years, the two weren't particularly close. Rashida had taught her many things, after all, adding more languages to the girl's vocabulary, bringing her books to read, things of that sort. But, the Arabic woman was no mother. She was no Esmeralda.

Often, conversations were strained, and so few words ended up being exchanged. It worked better this way. Ausiliatrice took to hunting after Rashida learned that the girl was proficient with a gun, and Ausiliatrice provided for them from that point on. Rashida went into town far more than Ausiliatrice, even though she could drive, even though Ausiliatrice had her own bike. But, Rashida didn't like Ausiliatrice going into town.

"You attract too much attention," the woman told her harshly, glancing back at the men who were blatantly staring at the thirteen year old girl as they walked through town. "Don't show so much leg! And for god's fucking sake, find a better shirt," she snapped, watching as Ausiliatrice easily lifted the heavy bags into their jeep. The girl looked Rashida dead in the eyes with a blank expression.

"It's hot."

"I know it's fucking hot!" Rashida growled, shutting the door harshly, "it doesn't matter! They're leering…" she trailed off, looking back over at the men. Ausiliatrice followed her gaze, and eventually met another. The youngest man of the group smiled charmingly, but dropped it upon seeing Ausiliatrice's eyes. He squinted, his expression confused, and leaned forward a bit, as it trying to tell if her eyes were as dark and endless as they looked. As they were.

She looked away quickly, and almost hastily got in the jeep.

Rashida had told Ausiliatrice many times (mostly when drunk, primarily when drunk), that she had developed the body of a woman early. Like her mother, like Esmeralda.

"God," Rashida drawled, putting a hand on her forehead, then dragging it back until she was running a hand through her short, choppy hair, "you look just like your mother when she was your age."

Ausiliatrice didn't answer, and remained stoic on her perch, sitting on the railing, with one long leg on the wood, and the other hanging, dangling on the other side. Looking to the savanna.

"We met when we were fifteen, you know," Rashida said with a sloppy smile, resting her head on folded arms, and looking, evaluating, Ausiliatrice. "Fell in love when she cussed me out and spit in my face," she said laughing, "a fucking spit fire. Way tougher than her bitch-ass brothers that's for sure. God," she said, hitting the table with her fist suddenly and raising her head, staring at Ausiliatrice, "you look just fucking like her! You've got her legs," she said, eyes starting at Ausiliatrice's feet, and raking their way up her body. Ausiliatrice remained rigid, this having happened before, ready to bolt, ready to flee. Ready to defend and attack, if needed.

"Her legs…" Rashida repeated again, "her ass, not as big of hips though, but you got some of her tits, that's for sure," she said, laughing robustly, then quieting, staring more intently at Ausiliatrice's face, "you've got her lips too…." her face contorted, almost angrily.

"But who's nose is that, huh?" She sneered, glaring at the girl now, tightening her grip on the glass bottle she had nearly finished, "and those fucking eyes! Those fucking, creepy-ass eyes, who's are those, huh? What bastard knocked her up and gave you that? Huh?!" She slammed the bottle down, shattering it, and cutting her own hand. She cursed loudly, and rose, kicking the chair as she went inside to their kitchen.

Ausiliatrice relaxed, letting out a small breath. It was always concerning when she got like this, but Rashida was so many things. Brash, yes, a drunkard at times, but protective too. Perhaps possessive.

A hunter had made a habit of coming by and trying to talk to Ausiliatrice when she was fifteen. He spoke to her in English. Thought her eyes were _exotic_. Thought her skin and hair were _striking_ , _tropical_. Said that she was _exquisite_. Said she was an _African Goddess_.

Ausiliatrice ignored him, primarily, but she supposed he found this attractive as well. He would talk to her from the ground, and she would stay on the porch, not even looking down at him. What a poet he was, she would think dryly. He made smart habit, however, of visiting when Rashida was not at home, but grew bolder, even introducing himself to her.

She found him annoying, and told him not to return. And he did, and he offered Ausiliatrice riches, and golds, and a way away from here, this place. Not home. This house wasn't her home. The savanna though. The savanna.

She didn't answer. Rashida told him that she would shoot him if he didn't leave. He didn't and she did, trailing him and looking through the scope of her rifle as he screamed, holding his bloodied shoulder, running to his vehicle. Rashida clicked her tongue and lowered the gun.

"I was aiming for the head," she admitted, then paused, looking over at Ausiliatrice and viewing her.

"Are you happy here?" She asked, almost quietly.

Ausiliatrice didn't answer.

The next day, Rashida brought her a motorized bike from town.

Rashida wasn't a great shot, but that was not her area of expertise. Dual swords, hand to hand, this is what she used to excel in. Before retirement, of course, but it wasn't as much of retirement as running away. Getting away. Isolation.

Ironically, the ghost she was trying to forget had found her again.

Ausiliatrice's first three years of training with Rashida were grueling, painful. Rashida showed no mercy, especially when Ausiliatrice didn't look like her mother yet. But, by that time, Ausiliatrice had already surpassed her teacher. Rashida had nothing more to teach her in that area, which left Ausiliatrice to train herself, work on marksmanship, which hunting fast game proved to be good practice for.

But, she had not learned to be a hunter in her time here;

she was a predator, and the other animals, the community of life that lived in the area, they became aware of this quickly, and adapted to fit Ausiliatrice in.

Ausiliatrice was anything if not an adapter. An unlined figure that simply avoided and floated around confrontation. And she floated well an mixed into this wild environment, and enjoyed it.

But, this was not permanent. This was simply one area of her life she hoped to look back on fondly.

She was waiting, after all.

What for, she asked herself, shifting in her hammock, and looking up, into the night sky seen between the leaves. What for, she thought, and tried to think of an answer to. She could not, and moved on, turning her head to the side.

The leopard was in the tree across from her, looking to be in thought as well. Like the lions, he was a regular visitor, perhaps even a companion as well. Ausiliatrice was glad that Rashida had never seen him, for she sleeps in the only bedroom of the house, but Ausiliatrice enjoyed her hammock, she enjoyed the solidarity away from her guardian.

If Rashida knew about the leopard, who made a habit of sprawling in the tree across from Ausiliatrice's hammock, then she would no doubt kill it. Or, have Ausiliatrice kill it, because it got so close to the house.

Often, Ausiliatrice found herself enjoying the company of wild animals more than humans, and even being able to understand them more. There was a language there that she could brush against. Perhaps not speak, but understand. She could understand so much and so little.

And she guessed that they held this same respect for her, the wild animals being at ease with her and her presence, as if she were another lion, another leopard. Perhaps some humans would say that she let these beasts of the wild get too close to her. Perhaps they didn't want her to get too close to them (the humans, the humans, because these beasts have already accepted her as one of their own).

The leopard shifted, eyes flashing slightly, catching the light of the porch below them. He shifted, and moved, his mass of muscles rippling into a relaxed, yet ready position where he could easily pounce.

But Ausiliatrice did not worry, because even if it did attack her, she knew she could defend herself. He knew too, by the way he viewed her. Equals. Predators.

After all, she viewed a stampede of wildebeests, or the kick of a giraffe much more dangerous than any of the large cats. She had heard far more stories of death by those means than by a lioness or leopard.

But, didn't they just look terrifying? Strong. Intense. Too much for the human eye, the human mind.

They often viewed these predators like they viewed her when she met their eyes, when they saw her eyes.

Predators, indeed. The same kind. Kindred spirits, perhaps? Or simply familiarity.

The leopard stiffened, its eyes going from half lidded to wide and tense, watching as the jeep returned to the house. Ausiliatrice watched too, eyes narrowing as it swerved and went far slower than usual. She watched too, as Rashida got out and slammed the door, swaying, her body barely outlined by dim light of the porch.

Ah, Ausiliatrice thought, it was one of _those_ nights. But, she thought, eyes going to her companion, tensed as he too watched her caretaker slowly make her way up the stairs, she should come down before Rashida began looking for her, and risk her seeing the leopard. She enjoyed his company far more, after all.

Rashida almost jerked back as Ausiliatrice slid from her hammock and landed with quiet feet on the porch.

"You…." Rashida, whispered, far drunker than Ausiliatrice had thought, the drunkest the girl had ever seen in her six years staying here, "you're….." Ausiliatrice tensed, as the drunken woman approached, not knowing exactly what to do, not being able to read her when she was like this.

Rashida had gotten close, closer than before, to the point where Ausiliatrice could smell potently the alcohol that the woman seemed to be soaked in. Rashida grabbed her shoulder, causing the girl to stiffen, her fingers moving to her hip out of instinct, but realizing, becoming cold, that she did not have her gun with her, and it was lying, defenseless, on the round table.

But Rashida had her rifle, as always, slung across her back. In easy reach.

The hand on her shoulder moved, brushing across Ausiliatrice's color bone, and then her neck before caressing her face. Lovingly. Obsessively. Ausiliatrice looked away from the rifle to her guardian's face, and realizing, suddenly, she was _crying_.

"Esme…" Rashida whispered, and tightening her grip, nearly holding her jaw painfully, "Esme you came back…"

Ausiliatrice stood, not knowing what to do, _uncomfortable, incredible uncomfortable_ , and tried backing away as Rashida nearly pressed her body against her, but realizing that her back was against one of the posts supporting the roof. It became painful as Rashida pushed herself closer, and Ausiliatrice was _uncomfortable, uncomfortable_ , and _cold_ , despite the warmth, the hotness of the older woman's body.

Ausiliatrice's heart beat fast, painful, _uncomfortable, wrong_ , as Rashida's face drew closer to hers, and their cheeks met and her lips were nearly on Ausiliatrice's ear, and she ranked, she reeked of alcohol, and Ausiliatrice, _hated it, she hated_ that she couldn't move.

"I knew…. I've always loved you," Rashida rasped into her ear, and Ausiliatrice could feel tears against her cheek and jolted as Rashida gently bit her ear lobe, but the woman wrapped her arms around Ausiliatrice waist and held her there, the bottle she had been holding clattering, shattering on the ground, and Ausiliatrice breathed heavy and closed her eyes tight as Rashida's hands roamed Ausiliatrice's body and grabbed her ass, and made their way under her shirt, and grabbed and squeezed, and _hurt_ her,

while her lips continued on the side of her face, and Ausiliatrice closed her eyes tighter and leaned away, pressing more into the post digging into her back, scared, _uncomfortable, violated_ , but couldn't move

and finally Rashida's mouth made her way to Ausiliatrice's, who drew her lips in, but there was force, there was passion- _anger, rage_. So much anger and resentment built up over years that Rashida put into this violation, and forced open the young girl's mouth and entered, while still grabbing, squeezing at the girl's body, wherever her hands roamed, until

Ausiliatrice's eyes snapped open, and she met the eyes of the leopard, watching with interest, almost concern.

She met the eyes of this predator and something snapped.

She bit Rashida's bottom lip and pulled harshly, tasting blood immediately. Rashida shot back and screamed, moving away from the girl

 _thank god, thank god, thank god_

and yelling, cursing loudly. Ausiliatrice then moved suddenly, going for the door of the house, not even wincing as she cut her bare feet on the broken glass. When she shot back, seeing a bullet tear into the wall of the house ahead of her. She tensed and looked, seeing Rashida, mouth bleeding heavily, and rifle in hand, shaking, shaking so much, and still crying, and glaring, and crying, until she sobbed, and fell to her knees, and letting the rifle fall as well.

A broken woman.

Ausiliatrice kept her eyes on the rifle, and stayed, frozen, violated, shirt torn, and exposed, _so exposed, uncomfortable_.

"I'm sorry," Rashida choked out, garbled, wounded, but Ausiliatrice didn't really believe her.

"I just thought," she choked out, bringing her hands to hold her own face, but only smearing blood more, "I just thought…. I thought when you got pregnant, when you got knocked up…. and you came to me, I thought that, Esme, that you did it for us, that you ran away for me, because…. I thought that you wanted me, Esme, that you wanted to raise this child, your way to freedom, our way to a better life…. I thought that we would do this together!" She screamed, clutching her head. Ausiliatrice stiffened, seeing the leopard jump from it's branch and onto the porch, attracted to the noise the woman was making, smelling the blood.

But Rashida didn't notice, and only continued crying, and screaming, looking longingly, hurt, heart achingly, at Ausiliatrice, not seeing the young girl, _violated_ , but seeing the woman she had obsessed over and lusted after for years.

"I thought that we could have a family, and we could raise a child together, and everything would be fucking perfect, but no!" She screamed louder, causing the leopard to tilt it's head, not knowing what to make of this weak, pathetic animal, "No! You had to fucking run away like you always do! And leave me with the consequences, and leave me with memories, with thoughts of what could have happened….. I thought that you loved me, when you told me…." she said, slumping further and sobbing more, "I thought that you finally loved me as much as I loved you…."

Ausiliatrice moved all at once, going through the door, and passing through the small closet, to where she kept her few belongings, and tearing it open, still listening intently through the open door, hearing Rashida still sobbing and rambling about the life she had longed for with Esmeralda:

The three of them as a family. Happy. Loving.

Not this nightmare; not this way. _Uncomfortable, violated_.

The places her lips touched, her hands roamed, tearing her shirt, _hurting her_ , still hot, burning Ausiliatrice's skin.

Ausiliatrice grabbed a bag and began stuffing her clothes into it, and then her hand hovered over an envelope, crumpled and discarded in the bottom of the basket. She picked it up, tenderly, recalling, remembering.

And she tore the envelope open, scanning over it with abyss eyes, absorbing the information like they absorbed all light. One word, six letters, printed maliciously, messily, in her mother's handwriting; a name, six letters, one word:

 _Reborn_.

Ausiliatrice crumpled, the paper instantly, the name, the word, the letters burned like embers, like a branding into her mind.

She moved again, back into the kitchen, and opening a cabinet under the sink, bringing out another, bigger bag, and opening it, checking the guns and weapons inside, and taking them, along with wads of money from another drawer and stuffing them with her clothes, and stepping out again, eyes widening slightly, seeing that the leopard had drawn closer, and that Rashida was no longer sobbing, but scared, frightened, terrified,

backed up against the same post the she had trapped Ausiliatrice earlier. Holding the rifle shakily once more, pointed at the beast that was much more powerful than her.

It was pathetic, really.

And her eyes flickered to Ausiliatrice once more, standing in the doorway, ready to leave her, and this place, and everything here,

because this place was never a home to the girl. Rashida was never anything, and now, she was even less.

Her eyes pleaded once, but then stopped, meeting the girl's eyes in full light now, instead of shadows like early.

Fear. Disgust. Hate.

Ausiliatrice looked at the leopard once more, and then at the rifle. She inclined her head sharply, and then turned, almost running down the stairs, using them for once.

No guilt. No regret.

The woman was armed after all, but, Ausiliatrice thought coldly, securing her bags on her motorized bike and swinging her leg over, she didn't think that made much of a difference. There was a single gunshot, and then a scream, which became gurgled, and then

silence.

Rashida had never been a good shot.

Ausiliatrice's bike roared to life and her headlight illuminated the nearly indistinguishable dirt road, following it, seeming endless and vast. The night sky sang above her, clear, so clear, and star bright, revealing galaxies upon galaxies.

Distinct and free. Endless.

The savanna moved around her, with her, hyenas barking, lionesses on the move and prowling, and she could see flashes of eyes watching curiously as she left

her home?

The savanna, with other predators like herself, companions. Yes, this had been a second home to her, the savanna, never that house, that place. But the savanna. The savanna though.

She would leave now, she decided, for she couldn't return and the time was right, and she was ready.

She had her answer, and could feel the letter, the weight of the name in her pocket.

She was done with waiting.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I highly recommend listening to "Wait for It". It's one of my favorite songs in Hamilton (who am I kidding, I have so many favorites), but it really resonates with this chapter, and really, just Ausiliatrice in general, especially now, and then later in her life (because I'm an awful person, and if you think that her life is going to be easy, then you have another thing coming). But Leslie puts so much emotion to this song, and it's just amazing, so actually listening to it would be a great idea to get the feeling._

 _Well, that's enough Hamilton promotion (LISTEN TO THE WHOLE THING). The chapters, like this one, are going to start being longer, because they are covering more important events in Ausiliatrice's life, so don't expect the little drabble chapters any more._

 _I might start putting quotes up at the beginning of every chapter, if I know one that fits well, because I fucking love quotes. And I have so many. So, so many._

 _Poor Ausiliatrice. It was strange writing this chapter, and extremely creepy, for obvious reasons, and just knowing the way Rashida looked at Ausiliatrice._

 _Thoughts?_

 _Guest review Responses:_

 _ **Zebra Cakes (Chapter 4):** I'm glad you like it so much and keep reviewing! I'm actually thinking of the possibility of having Xanxus more involved later... so there's that! Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 4):** I was going for more realistic, so I'm glad that I accomplished that aspect for you! And as her your question about whether Reborn will be an Arcobaleno yet, yes; Esmeralda met Reborn and conceived Ausiliatrice with him right before he was turned into an Arcobaleno. Thanks for the review! _

_-Evenly_


	6. Lesson 6: To Charm

**Lesson Six: Her Mother Taught Her to Charm**

 **Age: 16**

* * *

 _"What's past is prologue. What's future is epilogue. This right here is maybe chapter four or five."_

 **-Welcome to Night Vale**

* * *

Many thought her to be a woman, and perhaps, this was true. Her body at this time was very much developed like a woman, as she had already inherited her mother's figure, if at least not as voluptuous as Esmeralda's, but enough for eyes to linger too long. Her demeanor, just the same, with a serious expression always pressed onto her face. This, she thought, like her eyes, had to be from her father.

 _Reborn._

A dangerous man; someone one could not openly look for. She knew she had to be cautious, extremely careful in her footsteps when finding him. First, she had to make herself known, to eject herself out in the world of the underground; to make a name for herself. To be known and revered. And this, she accomplished easily enough.

She would take her kills easily enough from any distance, close or far, scaling buildings simply, and leaving just as. Obstacles were treated as playthings, distance a small feat left to her sight, her accuracy. An inheritance from her father, she figured. _Reborn_.

Throughout her many acts as a mercenary, it was easy enough to find his connection to the Vongola. At this thought, her lips would purse, and her eyes would narrow. How _troublesome_. In the position he was in, at the ninth's call and beckon like a lap dog, she couldn't proclaim her relationship with him, and actively, loudly, seek him out.

No; that would be too troublesome for both her and her father. _Reborn_.

But Ausiliatrice could wait. After all, she had waited for six years on the savanna, and that only aided her, honing her skills, increasing her speed, turning her into the predator she was born to be (she was her mother's daughter, he father's daughter). She could only hope her father was a predator as well; someone who would earn her respect.

And if not? Well.

She would wait and receive this information in time. This was easy enough to Ausiliatrice.

Whether with her looks, or her skills, she knew how to charm others. Even with her cold persona, Ausiliatrice would draw others in, whether she wanted to or not. Perhaps it was an attribute her father had as well? Her father, Reborn, the suave master assassin she had been searching for placidly.

And why did she seek him out? There was no point to it, really. She did not want her father's love, nor could she convince herself she needed it? For purpose in her life? Perhaps. Ausiliatrice desperately needed one to own herself, to call her own.

She realized, soon enough, that she was becoming known in the underground. Since she had left, she had headed to Europe, and had remained around the Mediterranean. Although the made a point to pass through Italy often to listen for information, she a made a habit of never staying too long. Part of this?

No place felt right. This is not where she belonged, she would realize, just having stayed for a few days. Money from kills and bounties had managed her, and had kept her travel expenses, and she could rightly go wherever she wanted and find somewhere she could stay and live.

But that wouldn't be home.

And this was fine for now. Ausiliatrice felt that she wasn't quite ready for another home yet. She enjoyed not staying in one place, and often found herself uncomfortable if she did for too long. Not only because that meant more assassins trying to kill her (not that it was a huge problem; she would eliminate them quickly and then receive their bounties. Though they were nowhere near the price on her own head, it was extra cash), but Ausiliatrice could never feel at peace enough to stay in one place for too long.

Perhaps this was a consequence of her childhood? No. It wasn't that.

It was freedom. Being able to move freely. This comforted Ausiliatrice, this quelled her, her core. This brought her peace.

Another reason she never stayed in Italy for so long, however, was far more political than what her soul wanted. Already, she had received invitations from numerous families, wanting her to join. But she was her mother's daughter.

At this time, she had no wish to be a part of a family. She was her own assassin, a mercenary for hire, and had no affiliations. With her name rising throughout the underground, this was strange for someone of her skill level.

Ausiliatrice was content with this for now, belonging to no one, and continued to turn down their invitations. And when those turned into demands? Well, then her reputation rose higher.

After all, she had grown up taking lives, and had no qualms with it now. Her mother taught her to kill mercilessly, and that was exactly what Ausiliatrice did. Mercilessly, yes, but without reason? No. Ausiliatrice wouldn't stand for that.

She stood for fairness. Honor. Perhaps this was a trait of her father's. And some day, she would find this out.

But for now?

She would fly. She would run. Shoot. Kill.

She would be alone. Her own person.

She would be free and unbound, for as long as she could.

* * *

"Hey, sis!" Ausiliatrice came to an easy stop, moving her head slightly to look down at the child. He stopped, then held out his hand. Ausiliatrice threw the coin easily in the air, the money being snatched by the small hand of the child. She turned, kneeling down as the kid pocketed the money. He leaned over, and whispered into her ear.

"Two scary lookin' guys went in ya' window a while ago," he whispered urgently in Italian.

"Wearing uniforms?" Ausiliatrice asked.

"Ya'. Black ones. Looked pretty expensive. Not from around, ya' know?" Ausiliatrice nodded, then put more money into the child's hand, bills this time. He looked at them with wide eyes, a grin on spreading on his face.

"Thanks," Ausiliatrice drawled, waved a slight hand behind her as she turned to enter the ingress of the apartments, taking her time, making her way up to her current residence.

She had received some extra money anyways, and so she had thought nothing of giving the child extra for the information. After all, this was a normal thing. After all, she knew what it was like to be like him. Like the other children she often saw on the streets.

If you want information, ask the rats. And if you want the rats to keep giving you information, feed them. She, after all, was a street rat herself. She knew how these cities worked.

She walked into her apartment without missing a step, flipping the light and barely even looking at the men waiting for her. She smoothly sat down across from them, and looked straight ahead, meeting the man's eyes in front of her. They had taken the liberty of moving a chair in front of the dingy couch, so that she would sit facing them. She had taken in their appearances immediately upon entering, and had instantly recognized both the men, and their uniforms.

It was alarming enough that they were the Varia. But to have the Varia's boss and second command sitting in her apartment, waiting for her? She had been ready to retrieve her guns the moment she had clarified her intruders were wearing black uniforms.

She had known for a long time that she was being watched by them. She had seen the black uniforms in her own shadow, she had known they had been taking note of her assignments, her kills. And she had assumed they would approach her soon enough.

But to have the Sword Emperor himself sitting in front of her? It was surprising, to say the least. And it left her apprehensive. But naturally, she didn't let this show.

The leader of the Varia was a rugged man, both in aura and appearance. Despite being fully covered, Ausiliatrice could still she scars on both his neck and face. His sword was secured at his side, but was not drawn. That could easily change, of course, but Ausiliatrice knew that if they came here to kill her, conflict would have already started. Not to say that she believed she could win against him, but Ausiliatrice was not bowing down without a fight. She had noticed he only had one hand immediately, but thought nothing of it. She knew better than to underestimate him because of that. It was foolish to assume anything of that nature would hold someone back in this business. Those assumptions would only end in death.

And then there was his second in command. Ottabio. Standing on Tyr's right. A shrewd looking man, how he stood, the expression on his face, his aura. He looked as if he fought his battles with his tongue more than weapons or fists. Ausiliatrice decided that this man would annoy her more than anything. He was not a predator. Not as much as Tyr was. And so he was the one she focused on, meeting his eyes without hesitation.

There was a glint of recognition. And then a robust chuckle.

"I had to see for myself," Tyr admitted, his voice low and rough. But powerful.

"This is a bit unprecedented," Ottabio spoke smoothly, "and we usually don't approach potential recruits like this. But Boss insisted, and I will admit myself, your record is quite-"

"You know my father," Ausiliatrice interrupted, causing a brief flicker of irritation in Ottabio's expression. She could care less, however, completely focused on Tyr. She had understood his look as soon as he saw her eyes. And Tyr found himself staring at a reflection of a man he had stood before long ago.

He held up a single hand, stopping Ottabio before he could speak again. He then leaned back in his seat, as if becoming comfortable. With his one hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He held it out and Ottabio quickly lit it for his boss, still seeming a bit annoyed. Ausiliatrice waited patiently as Tyr let out a stream of smoke. And then he spoke.

"I was around when he was making a name for himself, you know," Tyr began, continuing their eye contact, as if testing to see if she would ever break it. "Was making it up through the Varia then. Told out boss that we should have got him before someone else did. He never did." Another stream of smoke. Tyr closed his eyes first, then almost lazily opened them again, recalling, remembering. And then projected those memories onto Ausiliatrice, now in the present, sitting right in front of him.

"You're making your name a lot like he did. Doing a lot of things like him. Haven't met him yet, right?" He knew without her answering. "Didn't think so. Bit surprised that you even knew you were his kid. Wanting to meet him yourself, huh? I get that," he shrugged, rolling his shoulders. He dropped his cigarette and stomped it out, crushing it entirely with his boot.

"Ottabio likes to run his mouth, but you're a straight forward woman," Tyr stated bluntly, leaning on his knees. Ottabio seemed a bit ruffled by his boss's words, but brushed it off, looking professional once more. They were dangerous men, after all. Elite. _Varia Quality_. Ausiliatrice knew this. She knew what they were here for.

"You know our preposition," Tyr continued, "and you know the consequences. I'm not passing up another opportunity like this, and I would advise you to do the same." He rose, striding as he passed Ausiliatrice, Ottabio right behind him. Tyr paused, and turned his head to look back at her one last time.

"You have three days to decide."

And then they were gone. But luckily for Ausiliatrice, two days later, Try was defeated by a young swordsman. Ausiliatrice made a note to thank Surperbi Squalo for saving her the trouble of being hounded by the Varia.

The Second Sword Emperor. _Interesting_.

But for now, Ausiliatrice would once again leave Italy. She was drawing too much attention here.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Ausiliatrice met another acquaintance of not only her father's, but her mother's as well, just a few weeks after her encounter with the Varia.

Ausiliatrice shifted away slightly as a man plopped himself down on the stool beside her at a bar in Spain. He was either very brave or very drunk, most of the people in the bar knowing well enough not to sit beside her, with Ausiliatrice having been in the town for a few days and her reputation already being known here. Even the bartender gave a coy look in their direction, seeing this.

Both, Ausiliatrice decided, the man leaning closer. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he swiveled to face her, a sultry smile on his face.

"What's a lovely woman such as yourself doing al-" He stopped immediately when he face her fully, his eyes widening dramatically and his mouth hanging open. He looked over her once more and then turned quickly, taking a quick drink and then coughing. Ausiliatrice raised one smooth eyebrow and even almost moved to get up. She stopped however, when he spoke again.

"Esmeralda?" He stated then shook his head, "no, no. You have to be- of all people… they had a kid together?" He looked over at her again. Ausiliatrice stiffened. Drunk yes, but Ausiliatrice suddenly realized that this was no ordinary man. He was much more alert now. Possibly dangerous. But now, that he was this way, in this sense, Ausiliatrice barely recognized him, having seen his face before.

Trident Shamal. And he knew her parents. Both of them.

By this point, he looked vaguely terrified of her.

"You knew my mother?" She asked placidly, taking another drink of her own beverage. Shamal ran a hand through his hair, and took a breath, recollecting himself.

"I apologize for that, miss," he stated, regaining his suaveness, "I was just surprised. You're a perfect mix of both of them, after all." Ausiliatrice was barely impressed that he had composed himself so quickly.

"Am I?" She breathed out, humoring him.

"You're not like you're mother are?" He asked carefully, scrutinizing her reaction, then shaking her head, "No, your personality is more like Reborn. Has to be. Your mother…" he trailed off, paling slightly, "well, she was terrifying." He shuddered slightly, as if recalling nightmarish memories. "About the only woman I wouldn't bother…" he trailed off looking over at her again.

"Nope," he decided, shaking his head slightly. "He would kill me. How's your old man, anyway?" He said with a slight smirk, obviously playing with this new information in his head, "I've only ran into him a few times since the curse after all…" Ausiliatrice perked up at this.

Naturally, she had heard of this 'curse'. But never any solid information.

"I wouldn't know," she informed him coolly. Shamal's expression fell.

"I see. He doesn't know, does he?" It was a careful question.

"No." Shamal then hummed.

"Interesting." He rolled his shoulders, then chuckled, "Esmeralda was always a shrewd woman after all. And where is she? Do you know?"

"Dead," Ausiliatrice stated, "most likely." Shamal frowned, scratching his chin.

"Shame."

He didn't give his condolences, and Ausiliatrice didn't need them.

"Well," he stated, slamming his drink down again after finishing it, "the least I can do is buy my old friends' kid a drink, right?" He looked over at Ausiliatrice for her permission, to see her reaction. She inclined her head, and gave a slight nod, the edge of her lip barely twitching upwards.

"I suppose it is."

This was the first time Ausiliatrice had a drink with Shamal.

And yet, it wasn't the last.

* * *

 _"A word of advice," Shamal said to her once, "be careful with those eyes of yours. Anyone who knew him, especially those who knew him back then," she knew the time he was referring to; before the curse, whatever it was, "they'll recognize those eyes immediately. They'll know who you are."_

 _Ausiliatrice took a controlled drink, the glass clinking softly as she lowered it._

 _"No." He raised an eyebrow and looked over at her. As always, she was the picture of calm and collection, but with a ferocity behind that wall of ice, a cold fire that warned others. Power. Danger._

 _"They'll see me as my own before they see him," she told him confidently._

 _"And if they don't?" he asked with a small smirk, knowing the answer. Her eyes shifted to him, sending a callous shiver down his spine._

 _"Fuck them."_

* * *

Xanxus stormed through the entrance of the club, pushing roughly passed the bouncer, who in turn attempted to grab the teenager's shoulder, only to shrink back, receiving a harsh look. The man backed off, pulling his hands away. Xanxus turned again, continuing. Superbi Squalo sighed, and followed wordlessly, not even being bothered by the bouncer, who was still recovering from Xanxus's look.

"What the fuck," Squalo growled, leaning close to talk to Xanxus over the loud music, pulling him roughly aside and away from the crowd of people mingling throughout the large room, "are you doing? Do you even have a plan?"

Xanxus seemed to be ignoring his companion, his red eyes still scanning over the room. Angry. Offended.

 _How dare the old man not do anything?_

The bastard had spat on the Vongola name, had tarnished it, stepped on it. And the old man did nothing about and had the audacity to tell Xanxus not to go after him. And so Xanxus tracked the fucker down, naturally, with Squalo right behind him.

His eyes fell on a woman standing on the second floor, looking over the crowd of people below. And he moved on.

Ausiliatrice however, took note of the youngest son of the Vongola and the Second Sword Emperor. Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head slightly.

 _Interesting_.

She hummed lightly and then continued walking. She had a job to do after all, but there was never any harm in giving kids some entertainment.

"Let's go," Xanxus said seeing a man go through a door to the back rooms and pulling Squalo along behind him, who grumbled in return, wrenching his arm away, but following none the less, following always.

"You have a plan?" Squalo asked again, hushed, now in the back hallways of the club.

"Fuck the bastard up," Xanxus replied, eyes blazing. Squalo huffed and rolled his eyes, expecting no less from his boss. He stopped suddenly and shot forward, grabbing Xanxus's arm before he could enter another hallway. Xanxus looked back at him angrily, but paused, listening.

The sound of heels echoed through the corridors, intermingling with the sound of heavier footsteps. Carefully, curiously, Xanxus and Squalo looked around the corner, watching as a woman approached the man they had seen enter.

Vague recognition flashed through Squalo's eyes as he viewed her. She was tall, even without the aid of heels, easily looking the man in the eyes as she approached. Her long, dark and curly hair swayed as she walked, confidently, coolly. But what struck both of them was the aura she emitted. The aura any assassin, any fighter would recognize immediately. The aura that the man clearly missed.

"You lost or something?" He asked, eyes raking over her body. From their position, neither Squalo or Xanxus could see her face, but could tell that she titled her head from the movement of her hair. The man reached out to get a of hold her arm.

Squalo blinked, watching in awe as she grabbed his arm, pulling him forward and then promptly smashed his head into the wall. She let his body fall. Dead in one single moment. In one swift movement. She bent down, picking up the gun from the dead man's holster and inspected it. Satisfied, she moved on, blood on the knee of her pants, blood splattered on the walls, blood in her footsteps from the pool of blood now leaking from the corpse.

"Shit," Squalo breathed out, now knowing who that woman was, having seen her in the files he had looked through after killing the former boss of the Varia. He looked over to tell Xanxus, but stopped.

Xanxus's eyes were wide, excited. Bloodthirsty. he grinned and went forward, motioning for Squalo to follow.

Soon, they ran into more dead bodies. All having died by either smashed heads, broken necks, or broken spines. From what he could tell, there were no bullet wounds. Then again, now that they were away from the noise of the club, the loud music only a distant thrumming now, a gun shot would be terribly loud. And it would give the woman away in a moment, alerting others of her presence.

Xanxus's pace became faster the more bodies they passed, following her trail with interest.

Suddenly there was a gunshot. And then more.

A man entered, running out another hallway. He turned, seeing them, but fell forward with a bullet in the back of his head before he could even touch his gun. Xanxus's fingers tightened around his own weapon, having almost drawn it himself. Squalo stepped forward first, sword drawn and ready.

It was a large portion of the hallway, leading to double doors, lavishly decorated and presumably leading to an office. Xanxus entered behind him, just in time to see the woman from before cross her arms, making an x with them and shooting to either side of her. The two teenagers watched as the bullets deflected off the walls, ricocheting and then hitting the two men guarding the doors in the their ears, killing them instantly.

Not even sparing the two shocked teenagers a glance, the woman stepped forward and calmly opened the double doors, titling her head to dodge a shot that whizzed past her ear. She dropped both the guns, and then moved her long hair, revealing two guns on her upper back. She retrieved them and stepped into the office.

Squalo raised his eyebrow, impressed with the feat she pulled. And those weren't even her own guns, he noted. He watched, letting Xanxus enter first, grin still plastered on his face.

The bastard was already on his knees, pleading and crying when Xanxus entered. He had his hands clutched together in prayer, staring up at the goddess before him with hopeful, yet already dead eyes.

She looked down at him disdainfully, and shot without blinking, without a flicker of remorse in her eyes.

 _Her eyes_. For the first time, the woman turned and Xanxus saw them. Dark. Abyssal. And yet that wasn't what he was awed by.

When she looked at him, it wasn't just a woman, not a human he saw:

She was a predator. He saw an avid huntress in her. He saw a lioness, prowling, and deciding whether or not it would be a challenge to kill him, then and there.

And it was that moment, Xanxus understood what he wanted. Seeing as she walked with savvy, killed with ease and suaveness, easily, viewing the power in her saunter and understanding the galaxies of strength behind that.

Xanxus wanted that for himself. He wished to be looked at like that man, now dead, staining the carpet beneath her feet, had looked up at her, fully aware that his life was in her hands. Playing God, and always winning.

She played with lives, with bullets and guns, and won these little games with ease. With power, strength, controlled animosity.

And he wanted to be predator too. A lion in his own kingdom, as she was a lioness.

It wasn't her eyes that he noticed first, but the power behind it.

A power he had striven his whole life to achieve.

The woman's eyes scanned over him and Squalo with vague curiosity. And then she bent lowly, putting her arms out in a mock curtsy.

And in that moment both teens realized that it was all a show. She had left bread crumbs for them to follow, and they had been lead to the witch's lair all too easily. They had come here not of their accord, but hers. A show indeed, and she was taking her bow, snatching the roses thrown at her feet all too easily.

She returned, standing tall and then walked passed them, nodding at them as she did so. She paused however, when she reached Squalo.

"The Second Sword Emperor," she acknowledged. "Thanks." And then she moved on, leaving both the teens staring after her.

"The hell was that for?" Xanxus asked, looking over at his companion, angry, scathed (jealous?) that she would dare acknowledge his friend and not him. Squalo scowled and snapped back

"The fuck should I know?!"

Xanxus grumbled, putting his guns back into their holsters, not having realized he had drawn them. He looked, gazing after where she had left.

This feeling she had left him with? It was similar to his first kill.

He doubted that he would forget this moment.

* * *

Ausiliatrice ignored their whispers as she put her gun together meticulously, these actions having always calmed her and brought her peace.

She had never particularly liked assignments like these. But their employers felt them to be needed, despite Ausiliatrice being able to complete this task on her own. And yet here she was, waiting and listening to the other mercenaries whisper about her, critiquing her. Talking of her age, her looks, her body.

"They're only jealous." She looked over at him blankly, surprised that anyone would approach her with conversation.

 _Ah_ , she thought, it was him. The other odd one, hired to even the group out. The others had known each other and were already acquainted, having been hired in pairs, but Ausiliatrice and him…. they were the loners of the group.

Surprisingly, he looked to be young as well. Taller than Ausiliatrice, and large, muscular. With his choice of weapon, he needed to be. Wicked dual axes were strapped to his back. He smiled, his teeth flashing and standing out against his dark, velvet black skin. The skin under his eyes crinkled as he grinned and offered her a hand.

She didn't take it and instead rose from were she was kneeling, putting the gun she had been tinkering with back in its holster on her back and moving her hair to cover it once more.

"Hey, wait up, yeah?" He said, falling into step after jogging a bit to catch up with her long strides. His words had a thick accent to them, but his smile remained on his face.

"Ma-" He then stopped and corrected himself, "Meleager," he introduced, stepping in front of her, forcing her to stop as he held out his hand once again. "You've got a name?" Her expression remained neutral, until finally she sighed and stepped around him.

"Ausiliatrice."

Meleager clapped his hands together in triumph.

"She speaks!" he declared, considering this a victory. She steeled her expression and gave him an almost annoyed look. He simply grinned back at her, the skin under his eyes once again crinkling.

Although this was their first time meeting, their first exchange, their first job together, this wouldn't be the last time they would see each other.

And Ausiliatrice soon realized that Meleager was a far greater pestilence than she had originally thought.

But perhaps, this wasn't a bad thing.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I have a new story you guys should check out, especially if you like this kid of writing style. It's called **The Suicide Kid** , and it's kind of my take on an OC-reincarnated-Fem!Tsuna. So, check it out and tell me what you think. _

_I was thinking, would anyone be interested in an entire chapter on Esmeralda's past? Like, it would show her and Rashida's relationship, her family, and her relationship with Reborn. Although, that could probably be an entire chapter on it's own. I wouldn't put it up for a while though._

 _So, let me know what you guys think about that. I'm probably going to start writing the rest of the next chapter right after this, because it's something I've been waiting to write for a long time. Also, I made a cover for this! It just kind of turned into Ausil?_

 _Anyway, tell me what you think of this chapter! Sorry if there are any mistakes. i just got back from senior trip and I'm still tired from it._

 ** _Review Responses:_**

 _ **Tigressa:** Aw, thanks so much for the love and the review!_

 _ **Tsuki Sawada Hibari:** Love the username, and thanks for the love and review! _

_**Guest (chapter 5):** I'm afraid there's a bit of an age gap between Tsuna and Ausiliatrice. For future reference, Ausiliatrice will be 26 when Tsuna is fourteen. Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest (chapter 5):** I hope your feels are okay. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 5):** Aw, thanks for thinking that Ausil is cool!And here's to hoping that she lives up to her father's legacy. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Josh Grimes:** Hope you're actually not dead. And sadly, her life isn't gonna get any better from here. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Voldemort:** I'm glad you liked the character development! And thanks fro the review! _

_**Kinky Nugget:** Glad your reviews are easier to write now. I'm always happy to make your life easier. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Jamsey:** Thanks so much, and thanks for the review! _

_**Blessit:** Aw, thanks so much! I'm glad that you can picture it in your head. Thanks for the review! _

_-Evenly_


	7. Lesson 7: To Laugh

**Lesson 7: Her Mother Taught Her to Laugh**

 **Age: 16-17**

* * *

 _"It's pathetic, I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was… not love at first sight exactly, but – familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you. Game over."_

 **-Mhairi McFarlane, _You Had Me At Hello_**

* * *

Ausiliatrice had found herself meeting Meleager more and more, and she was beginning to think it was not a coincidence. After the sixth job they had accomplished together, this was clear.

"Not to make you think I'm stalking you or anything, yeah?" He told her, casually walking across the large metal containers with his arms crossed behind his head, lax but ready to grip the stalks of his axes. "My employers just keep booking me on jobs with you."

His employers. He had mentioned them before. An agency he was a part of.

"Not a Family, though," he told her, retrieving his ax from the back of a corpse as he passed, stepping into the large storage unit, following Ausiliatrice. Talking, as usual. He liked to do that, but didn't seem to mind when she didn't return the favor. "It's different, yeah?"

And as always, she would either ignore him. And eventually, she would throw him a bone and nod in acknowledgement. And soon enough, he received a bouquet of flowers in the form of her slight hums.

Improvement, on her part. An actual vocal exchange. Almost a conversation, a back and forth of him talking and her humming. Or nodding. Or she would give him a look.

And he wouldn't look away. She didn't know what unnerved her more; him pursuing her, or that fact that her eyes seemed to interest him more than unnerve.

Strange. But he was a strange one. And so was she, and isn't that just what made them strangers? And soon, she started not minding group jobs. Partner jobs. Because she found herself not minding being paired with him. And he continued talking while they continued killing, neither one of them batting an eye at the blood, the gore (because that was just part of their lives, a normal routine, these little assassin games).

And then he began asking to see her outside of jobs. And she would either ignore him, as usual, or divert, or just say no. But he was insistent, and happy ( _strange, strange, strange_ ), and continued talking as always, because _damn_ was he persistent on getting to know her.

And why?

Ausiliatrice couldn't fathom the answer. But she couldn't deny her curiosity to find out. And perhaps, maybe to know him better as well.

"You want to get some coffee some time? I know a great place, yeah?"

And he smiled at her, and the skin under his eyes crinkled. She liked to think that it was because he smiled so much.

A regular drink she could turn down. But Ausiliatrice had always been weak for a good cup of espresso.

* * *

"At this point, you should be the one paying me to work with you."

Meleager's eyes widened over the brim of his cup. He lowered it, placing it on the ledge next to him, giving her his large, usual, flashing smile.

"She jokes!" He said, skin crinkling once more, pushed under his eyes thanks to his wide smile. "I was on the money about a dry sense of humor," he mused humorously, vaguely proud of himself. She took a sip of her own drink, looking out over the Parisian skyline. It was a calm night after another massacre. The blood was still bright on Meleager's axes, but the lights from the Eiffel Tower were brighter still.

"But, that's actually not too far from the truth…" he trailed off, smile dropping, almost guiltily.

Her eyes shifted, looking at him curiously from her side. He was quite the intriguing individual, she will admit. A killer one moment. And then smiling. And yet still kind. Happy. It was strange (and yet, they were no longer strangers, were they?).

"You're scouting me," she stated plainly, "for your agency."

"When did you know?" He once again had an easy smile, as if relieved. After all, he was not allusive, and tended to be truthful about his ways. Too trusting, she thought. Not a good liar at all. Already, it was obvious that he had given her a false name. Or an alias, perhaps?

"Since our second job."

"Moscow?" She nodded, confirming. He made a small hum, picking up his beverage once more and taking a long drink. A pause. And then.

"My employers want to meet you. They think that we work well together and want to bring you in."

Ausiliatrice gave him a look. He held up his hands in defense.

"I know, I know," he chided, smiling lightly and shaking his head, "you aren't affiliated. And you don't want to be, yeah?" She didn't even have to look over at him to confirm this.

"But we're not a family," he reminded her, holding up a finger and wagging it along with his words for emphasis, as if rehearsing them, as if he had heard these words countless times before, "a collection of skilled individuals who amass to great potential."

"Collectors then," Ausiliatrice asked carefully, "your employers?"

"Of sorts," Meleager replied with a wry grin, "They get us the jobs, evaluate our skills. Give us some benefits. And when they need us to do a personal favor?"

"I see," Ausiliatrice hummed, musing, thinking.

For once, Ausiliatrice didn't know what to think of her new companion. Companion? Was that the right word for this person who seemed to be constant at her side now? She had never thought of him in that way.

A friend?

Those who killed together, she supposed. Who fought side by side, even if unintentionally. Companions. _Friends_. These were unfamiliar concepts to her. But when she looked into his eyes now, when she looked over at him.

It was almost familiar.

She viewed his massive arms, watching his muscles ripples, even at the slightest movement, and was reminded of her companions of the wild, of the savanna. She saw the leopard she had laid beside, _so close, so close_ , and had formed a bond with without a whisper of conversation.

And here was this person, human, pulling conversation from nothing. Wanting to talk to her? Genuinely?

She wasn't quite sure yet. But she was curious enough to find out.

"So, you up for it, yeah? Ausil?" She snapped to face him, causing him to lean slightly back, the movement being quite sudden, violent, an outlier for the calm conversation. But he relaxed, if only a bit. It was more confusion than rage on her face; vague offense.

"What," she said, coldly, carefully, "did you call me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement, demanding, almost daring him to repeat the offense. He blinked, a pause, and then laughed. A warming sound that did nothing to change her expression.

"Oh, come on, yeah? I mean it's pretty, yeah, but your name is so long!" He complained lightly, now throwing his empty plastic cup repeatedly in the air, and catching it, an action he often performed with his weapons. "So I figured I'd just call you Ausil, yeah?"

Her eyes narrowed almost dangerously. And then she pointedly looked away, pushing herself up and briskly walking away from him, across the rooftop they had been perching on. He sighed, jokingly, loudly throwing his arms out in question before going after her.

"Oh, come on! Are you pouting, Ausil?" She turned suddenly and he found himself staring straight down into her abyssal eyes.

Ausiliatrice stumbled, having forgotten the words she had been ready to lash out.

He hadn't flinched when he met her eyes, _so close, so close_. And instead seemed mesmerized. There was a moment. And the two were alone in the city of Paris. Just the two of them and the lights of the tower. Dark brown eyes merging with impossibly darker black.

And in the next moment Ausiliatrice realized how close they had become. And that their faces were nearly touching and a sudden spike of uncomfortableness hit her. And she stepped back, turning away, crossing her arms.

Cold.

Meleager turned slightly as well, but never completely turned his back on her. He lifted a large hand, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He opened his mouth, an apology on his tongue, but the words never made it to his lips.

"Ausiliatrice," she said, correcting him. "You'll call me Ausiliatrice."

And Meleager then smiled, and grinned, and the skin under his eye crinkled.

He had never been good at following directions.

* * *

She was no fool. No, Ausiliatrice was far from one.

Along with being able to speak and listen to the words of others from a young age, Esmeralda made sure that her daughter knew how to read. But she soon discovered the young girl didn't need much help on the matter, and mostly taught herself. And as a child, growing up, one comfort she had allowed herself, one luxury item that she had managed to always receive were books. Legends.

Fairy tales in particular, she enjoyed when she was younger. The true ones, the dark tales of misfortune and mistakes. But sometimes, they would get a happy ending. And for a time, she would become caught up in that delusion as well.

She recalled times where she had begun walking on that rugged road, and she would continue walking, away from the stilted house, and Rashida would watch her go and do nothing.

Because Ausiliatrice would come back. Eventually, when her feet were tired, and she would turn her back on the sunset.

But sometimes, especially in the first few months, she would simply stop walking. She would sit down in the middle of that road, barely distinguishable, barely a line between vague civilization and wild.

She would sit and look into the sunset and imagine her mother coming back. She would drive up, in a similar car that she had most likely killed a man for, and she would climb out and walk calmly to Ausiliatrice.

And then her mother would pick her up, for she was still small then and could still fit in her mother's arms, and hold her close without saying a word (because those two, together, never did need to say much), and Ausiliatrice would press her ear into her mother's chest.

And she would listen to her mother's heart beat one last time.

And that would be their happy ending, because that's where their story would end. No matter what happened after. End of book, blanks pages after and then? The back cover.

But Ausiliatrice soon outgrew this day dream as she had outgrown the fairy tales. And by that time, she had grown tired of happy endings, despite the trials it took to reach that point. And so she turned her interest to legends, mythology, particularly, Greek and Roman after receiving a large leather bound book from Rashida about it.

And through these she learned that gods made mistakes. That heroes could be awful. Atrocious. They killed, raped, and plundered. They were all human, even the heavenly beings of these stories. These lessons were of pride and arrogance. Of strength and gore. These were things she could relate to, that she had experienced.

Ausiliatrice was far from a fool. And she had recognized Meleager's name the moment he said it.

Meleager, a hero and host of the Caledonian boar hunt. His life was tied to a burning piece of wood, and once that was set to fire? Meleager died.

There were other details of course. He had fallen in love with another hero, and had defended her honor, killing his own family to do so. And then was in turn killed by his own mother. Atalanta, Ausiliatrice had believed, was the hero's name, the woman who Meleager had fallen in love with. Details, details. She had an interesting tale as well, but didn't they all?

All heroes, all warriors. Those born to fight. To kill. And perhaps this is what brought them together, what bonded them.

Perhaps this was why she was following Meleager now, at this moment.

They weaved through the crowded streets and occasionally Meleager would look back at her, and smile brightly. As if excited. Ausiliatrice found herself vaguely amused by his actions. Almost endearing.

"Stay close," he turned to her, looking her in the eyes, and only lightly encasing his hand around her wrist after receiving a nod of consent. He nodded to the large bouncer as they passed the long line of people, and entered a large, clean and modern club. Ausiliatrice's eyes adjusted quickly to the rapid changes in lighting and they weaved through more people, loud music thrumming through their body, aligning and coursing through their blood streams.

Meleager let go for a moment and shot forward, grabbing the shoulder of a tall, slim man. A rough clap on the back from Meleager nearly sent the poor man stumbling forward, but it seemed to be a happy exchange as they both laughed. Meleager leaned, yelling something in the man's ear before both eyes turned to Ausiliatrice.

A small expression of 'ah'. And the man was gone, moving at an incredible speed through the crowd.

"Hermes," Meleager explained, then indicated with his head to one of the stair cases, leading to the second level. "We wait up there, yeah?"

Meleager, Ausiliatrice noted, seemed to be well-liked here. Well known. He exchanged many smiles and rough physical greetings, even from the most hostile, reserved people they passed.

Assassins. Mercenaries. Dealers of all kinds and sorts. Ausiliatrice could see this easily with nearly everyone they passed.

This was a place of business, despite its chrome exterior. Ausiliatrice knew these types well. But this was a very watched place, and everyone knew it. There would be no conflict here; there were too many people on one side.

But whose side was that?

Meleager held the door open to a private room and Ausiliatrice entered first. The difference in volume was deafening. Ausiliatrice turned to face the glass, seeing those on the outside. She pressed her fingers to it, hearing the distant hum of music and then feeling it's vibration against the glass.

Meleager came to stand beside her.

"It's different, yeah?" He asked, looking down, "seeing from up here."

And it was.

She turned her head, looking at a side door as the man, Hermes appeared from before.

"Already?" Meleager asked, surprised, crossing his arms from behind his head. An uncomfortable look passed on Hermes face.

"Zeus wants to meet her." Meleager's face turned to almost disgust, surprising Ausiliatrice. This was perhaps the first negative emotion she had seen on his features.

"You're kidding, yeah? I thought I said not to tell him?" He let his arms fall, and then took one large hand to rub his face. "Whatever," he grumbled dismissively, and then gestured heavily to Hermes. "Let's just go."

Ausiliatrice remained silent, watching this exchange. Hermes gave her an almost apologetic look before turning and going back through the side door her had popped out of. And they followed.

"Listen, sorry," Meleager began, walking backwards as they followed Hermes through the hallway, a new thrumming of music replacing the old, "I didn't want you to meet him. I mean, yeah, he's technically the boss, but he doesn't do-"

"Meleager." Meleager turned his head to smile brightly at Hermes. A brash, fake, brilliant display of teeth.

"-shit," he finished boldly, "No use bullshitting, yeah?" Hermes sighed, but didn't disagree. Meleager turned his head back to Ausiliatrice. "So yeah, he's a disgusting bastard. But he pays the bills. It's Hera that y-" He stopped, Hermes having reached a large door, decorated in gold accents. Already, Ausiliatrice could hear the mingle of music and human noises. Giggling. Moans. Some screams of pleasure.

Ausiliatrice's expression didn't change as they walked in, seeing a large bed in between two large, grand staircases, sloping elegantly, and the room crowned by a cold, intricate chandelier. The bed however, was very occupied.

Naked women were draped over the man, placed at the center of the bed, exhausted and intermingled, tangled in each other's bodies, still breathing hard and radiating with pleasure. He, himself, was still stroking and enjoying their bodies, and only looked up after Hermes had coughed into his hand. He smiled brightly, and clambered out of the bed, not even bothering to cover himself as he stood.

Confident. No, it was brash cockiness in which he held himself. Ausiliatrice supposed she could see why others would find him attractive, sure, but there was nothing about this man that charmed her. He was weak, the kind of man who expect others to work for him. And his eyes went to her immediately, despite Meleager standing almost protectively in front of her, on edge, but faking casualness, arms crossed, but still ready to grip his axes.

"You want to…?" Hermes gestured down with his hands, and looked pointedly away from the man's naked body. He laughed robustly, never taking his eyes off Ausiliatrice, taking in every detail and thirsting after it, only moving away from her face when traveling down her body.

"You know I have no shame, Hermes," he said, indicating with his head, but still undressing the woman in front of him with his eyes. Ausiliatrice kept looking straight ahead, not willing to bow down, to give him power and show him her uncomfortableness. Meleager laughed, brilliant and fake, and boldly stepped right between the two, forcing the man to look at him.

"Long time no see, yeah, Zeus?" Meleager said crossing his arms, flexing his large muscles, rippling and warning, "I see you've been busy, yeah?" He indicate towards the bed, where the women were more alert now, either giggling or hiding their bodies now that they were more aware of other people in the room. Zeus frowned momentarily, irritation flashing through his eyes before he once again smiled.

"You know me," He said with a causal roll of his shoulders, "I get around. But your friend," He leaned to the side, then moved past Meleager, who barely jerked in retaliation, but stayed where he was, only turning his head to watch this exchange.

"I don't believe," Zeus murmured, grabbing Ausiliatrice's hand, causing her to go rigid, willing herself not to grab her guns, "we've met yet." He kissed it softly, lingering, taking in the scent of her skin, and then parted with it, eyes traveled from her pelvis, to her breasts, then her lips, and lingered there as well. And then, he had reached her eyes and flinched, a momentary reflex, and his eyes went to her hair. A coward after all, not willing to face what unnerved him.

"I would remember," he continued, his hand going to gently stroke a large strand of her wild hair, "such a beautiful face." Meleager saw what was going to happen, and turned his head smirking lightly, knowingly. Zeus cried out in pain as Ausiliatrice's hand nearly crushed his wrist, causing her hair to slip form his fingers, and fall back into place, fanning over her shoulder and cascading over it.

Ausilaitrice's eyes flickered over to Hermes, whose determination wavered, along with the gun he had trained at her.

"She'll shoot you long before you pull the trigger, my man," Meleager hummed, turning and once again folding his arms comfortably behind his head, smiling, enjoying the pain on Zeus's face. He, Ausiliatrice noted, seemed to find this situation rather enjoyable. Zeus wavered, crumpling in pain, and shaking, knowing not to say anything else, not to anger her more, knowing full well that she could shatter his wrist with one quick squeeze.

"Honestly," a placid voice wafted from the stairs, followed by the clinking of heels, "you should know not to touch people without their consent." Ausiliatrice's eyes snapped to the top of the left stair case. A woman a stood, regally. She looked down at them with indifferent eyes, and yet calculating, inspecting. As she continued walking down the stairs, the train of her dress followed, cascading, and upon further inspection looked like a large peacock feather, the pattern mimicking the animal perfectly. She wore long sleeves as well, but her dress was short in the front and a deep teal color. Her skin was olive-toned, and her hair was cut short and straight, shorter in the back and then angling as it near the front, with bangs covering her forehead, cut in a straight line. Dyed a dark, vivid blue.

"As amusing as this is," she spoke again, eyes on Ausiliatrice, stirring with thought, gauging potential. A collector. "I would appreciate it if you did not hurt my husband too badly." And Ausiliatrice released Zeus, who fell to the ground with a large sigh of relief, holding his injured wrist. The woman quirked her head, a sliver of a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Hermes," she addressed, "you're dismissed." She then looked at Ausiliatrice and Meleager, holding up a hand and then putting a single, elegant finger out, gesturing for them to follow.

And they did.

Ausiliatrice took note at the almost disdainful look the woman gave both her husband and the women on the bed; a look of loathing and jealously. And then it was masked as she fully turned and continued up the stairs. Meleager flashed a grin and wriggled his eyebrows before following. Ausiliatrice sent one last look at Zeus, who whithered, looking away. Lesson learned indeed.

"I apologize for my husband's actions," the woman said upon entering a large room located behind the doors at the top of the steps, "he's not used to not receiving what he wants." There was a cold humor lacing her words. Ausiliatrice noted the other occupant of the room. A large, built woman, completely covered, only her eyes in a slit between her hijab and veil covering her mouth and chin. Meleager approached the woman, hand raised to receive a high-five.

"Argus, long time no see, yeah?" Argus simple looked at Meleager, unimpressed and unmoved. She retained her position, standing strong and arms folded behind her back. Meleager laughed, finally lowering his hand. "One day, Argus, one day," he promised, laughing before he plopped down on the couch, facing throne-looking pair of chairs. After being prompted by Meleager's pat, Ausiliatrice sat beside him as well, keeping her distance as usual.

The woman from before sat down in one of the chairs, back straight and head held high. A queen. Someone Ausiliatrice felt that she could come to respect. But respect had to be earned. Both Ausiliatrice and the woman knew this.

"I am Hera," she introduced, "and welcome to Olympus. You know Meleager well," she nodded softly in his direction, "and to my right, stands my body guard, Argus. My husband, Zeus," she said with the small sliver of resentment, "you have had the pleasure of meeting as well. And Hermes, of course."

"Aliases, I presume," Ausilaitrice stated.

"Naturally," Hera agreed, "and I'm guessing you knew that Meleager was not his true name the moment you met him." Meleager took on an offended front.

"You hurt me," He said, faking a sniff and turning his head away. Ausiliatrice ignored his usual antics.

"You're wondering what we are," Hera started suddenly, understanding that Ausiliatrice would appreciate no less, "and rest assured that we're no family. We're a business; an agency if you will. We see potential and we seek them out, receiving jobs and then passing those jobs to them. We recognize skilled individuals who amass to great potentials, and then help them reach that." Meleager moved his fingers in the air with the words, as if orchestrating them. Hera ignored this and continued.

"You're wondering what we get out of this? It's simply, really. Of course, for being your agents, we get a small percentage, but we also supply you with benefits; weapons, transportation fees, and we try out best to assign partners who work well together. Which, is why we were interested in you in the first place." Hera's eyes met Ausiliatrice's. And although there was a small spurt of apprehension and wariness, there was also acknowledgement of power.

Perhaps Hera wasn't dangerous in the typical sense. But she could pick people apart with one look. With those eyes, Hera unraveled people in seconds, revealing them in moments. And in that same moment, she saw all their potential, and then used this information to her advantage. She was a people person, and this was a dangerous thing.

"Meleager," she said suddenly, interrupting their evaluation of the other, "go fetch us drinks. Wine." Meleager opened his mouth, but shut it promptly after receiving another look from Hera. He sighed, then smiled again, sending a wink of goodbye to Ausiliatrice before exiting. And that was when the true negotiations began.

"Meleager's orders were to scout you, but my true intentions were to test your compatibility," Hera explained, crossing her ankles elegantly and propping a single arm and holding her chin up stylishly. "He has the potential to be a leader. You noticed this."

And Ausiliatrice had, with the way he approached people, how he talked to them, how he made them feel at ease with him around.

"But, he needs someone else to complete him. To help him learn. He's too trusting, and that will get him killed. And wouldn't that," she said with a callous smirk, "be a shame."

"You help people to the top and then profit from it," Ausiliatrice stated, crossing her leg over her knee and leaning back casually, but still holding power in the conversation, always having power.

"It's quite beneficial," Hera admitted, "and we even have some former heroes of Olympus in the inner circles of the most powerful families. My husband may have funded this organization, but have no doubt; I'm the one who pulls the strings. I choose the players in the game. And I've been considering you for a long time, Ausiliatrice. You have potential that I want. But only a fool would try to control a woman such as yourself. There are no obligations, and you are free to cut ties with us at any time."

"I've received offers before," Ausiliatrice stated coldly.

"Ah, but this one is different," Hera rebutted, "this offer includes your freedom. I only ask that my heroes do a few favors from time to time. Protect the agency, of course. And eventually, loyalty is built without us having to raise a hand. Comradeship. You want that, don't you?"

 _Ah_. Ausiliatrice had underestimated how good Hera was at reading people. For that moment, Ausiliatrice considered it. And that was all Hera needed.

"Meleager," she welcomed coolly as he reentered the room, "I see you've brought celebratory drinks."

"Celebratory?" He perked up, looking to Ausiliatrice after handing the wine to Argus. He smiled widely as Argus filled a glass for her boss. "Does that mean…?" Ausiliatrice took the glass offered to her, not bothering to nod in confirmation. Hera raised her glass, looking Ausiliatrice in the eyes confidently.

"Welcome to Olympus, Atalanta."

* * *

 _"So, since you're a hero of Olympus, I was thinking, yeah? That you should know my actual name." He held his hand out, as if he were meeting her for the first time._

 _"Mateus. My name is Mateus."_

 _And she took it._

* * *

They had fallen into routine all too easily. Of course, they fit together rather well, being opposites, and therefore different pieces of a puzzle (no two matching pieces fit with another, after all, and opposites fit rather well). Not only physically, but stylistically as well, with both weapons and methods.

They complemented each other well and soon came to realize this. He talked often and she was content with listening. And this was how they worked. And this relationship was visible between them, and it was obvious not to approach them, to challenge them, seeing the easiness in which they killed together, walked together, how they entered the room and were immediately noted; predators in perfect sync.

"Why did you approach me?" She asked once night, sitting on the couch and looking out the window of the hotel room, not even having to look over at him. He was well aware of that she wasn't just referring to his orders to scout her. He was well aware she was referring to the night they first met.

"You're interesting," he said plainly, with a roll of his shoulders, "and I want to know interesting people. I wanted to know you."

"Why?" He looked over at her with an easy smile. The skin under his eyes crinkled, so familiar now, a trait that she had grown fond of.

"Do I need a reason?" He approached her, an accusingly, but playful look on his face, "You're too paranoid, Ausil-"

"-liatrice," she finished for him, frowning, disapproving of the nickname he always used for her. His grin, however, only widened, fully aware of his usual slip up. Mateus jumped over the back of the couch, landing on his knees and sitting, facing her and leaning forward.

"You," she stated, lifting her hand placidly, and pushing his chest back, "are far too trusting."

"And you don't trust enough," he dashed back, teeth flashing brightly against his dark face. He went back into a squat, balancing until he placed himself on the arm of the couch. Ausiliatrice remained still, stoic in her relaxed fixation, her knees bent comfortably and her own back propped against the opposing arm rest. They remained, him lovingly, looking into each other's eyes. And yet

It wasn't love between them. Not yet. It was familiarity. It was acknowledging the other being in the room, and giving a slight nod of _yes, I could see myself spending the rest of my life with this person_.

Understanding.

Comfort.

But did she even know what love was?

"We," he said slowly, "complete each other." Her look shifted to unimpressed.

"Oh come on, Ausil-"

"-liatrice."

"There are clichés for a reason," he pointed out, pivoting on his perch, and plopping down on the couch with her, sending a look of question and only touching her legs after a nod of consent, raising them and sliding under, before finally leaning forward with crossed arms, resting on them.

"We," he continued, moving two fingers along her legs, mimicking a person walking, "complete each other; almost perfectly, in fact, if that even exists."

Because they both knew that it didn't.

"You say I'm too trusting, you are shit at trusting-" He earned a disapproving look "- and I know you have good reason for it." Her eyes softened, knowing that he had picked up on this easily without her even having to explain. Appreciating the space he had given her, and appreciating that he had never pried into her past.

"And that's why you respect me, yeah?" he said out loud for her sake. "I can read you easy, and you can tell everything about me at any moment by watching me move. I am your voice," he said, ceasing the walking, and instead simply resting his hand on her leg, warmth against warmth, "and you are my strength."

"You don't need my strength."

"I do," he corrected her, "more than you think."

"No," She corrected again, thinking of how easy he was around people, how they rotated around him, revolved like he was the sun in the center of a galaxy. And she was simply a moon, reflecting his impressive light.

"Fine," He said, leaning back with a happy, sloppy smile, knowing with amusement that he could never argue with her and win once she had decided, "then we are each other's strength. You can settle on that, yeah?"

She blew air out her nose, and looked away once more, out the window and to the expansive blue sky, clouds lingering on the horizon; present, but not overtaking it. Respecting each other's boundaries.

She answered his question with silence, not having to say yes.

* * *

Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed together. Mateus raised one eyebrow, recognizing that she was annoyed instantly.

"This is Hecate," Hera introduced, gesturing to the small woman on her left, with Argus on right, as always, "our most skilled illusionist. But," she said with a small quirk of her lips, "I see that you've already recognized that you are caught in an illusion."

Hecate titled her head, and smiled brilliantly, cheekily. Ausiliatrice blinked her eyes rapidly, then tried stepping forward, only to nearly fall into Mateus, the illusion damaging her sense of balance.

"I was right to assume that you were inexperienced to illusions," Hera said, walking past them and moving to exit the room. "I'll leave you to your lessons." Argus nodded at them, and then followed her boss. Ausiliatrice scowled and pushed away from Mateus, standing on her own once more.

Hecate was small woman, tiny in fact, incredibly pale and incredibly blonde. But despite her small stature, she walked with confidence and moxie. Playfulness. Upon closer inspection, she was far older than she looked, but had the habit of hiding her wrinkles and other signs of aging with small illusions. She carried a lace umbrella with her as well, with a sharp, thin blade hidden at the top, covered in poison, just in case someone got passed her formidable illusions.

She was mute as well, but this did nothing to stop Ausiliatrice from communicating with the illusionist.

"You know sign language?" Mateus asked, surprised. Ausiliatrice gave him annoyed look. "Right, right," He said, holding up his arm, "I shouldn't be surprised, yeah." And then she continued her conversation with Hecate.

After all, they had a trade off; Hecate helped Ausiliatrice with seeing through illusions and Ausiliatrice helped Hecate with hand to hand and utilizing her weapons. Both needed work in the other's area of expertise after all.

Ausiliatrice soon found that she hated illusions. But this, like all the other trials of her life, was something she could overcome.

But not easily; never easily. Was anything in her life easy?

However, she had been corrected later when Mateus had approached her, apologizing, knowing she had a head ache, but wanting Ausiliatrice to teach him sign language. And as she helped him, it becoming easier for her to touch his hands in order to correct him, she had an epiphany, a thought while looking at him.

Some things were easy for her after all. And for once in her life, she had genuine hope that it would remain this way for a while.

She was content.

* * *

Superbi Squalo recognized the woman instantly (but he doubted he could ever really forget someone like that). She jumped down, landing with quiet feet and shot the men on both sides of her with pristine accuracy. Squalo tensed, sword raised, watching her.

She carried animosity like wings on her shoulder, but molded them with precision, keeping this power beneath her skin in check. If only his boss was here, once again coming across the person who had inspired him, sparked his flame and had unknowingly lit his passion for power. Lussaria stalled as he came to a stop behind him, immediately picking up on the tension, immediately knowing the girl was dangerous.

A body toppled over the railings above her, where she had jumped down from before. The body hit the ground with a sickening thump beside her, but her unnerving, strong, powerful eyes remained on Squalo. A large, burly, dark-skinned man landed loudly beside her, and then moved to the corpse, pulling an ax from where it had been embedded into its back.

"Well fuck," He said, scratching the back of his head and looking over at the two. "Varia? You know them, yeah?" He asked, looking over at the woman. She didn't answer, and he shrugged, looking back at Squalo and Lussaria.

"We going to have a problem?" It was a threat said with a smile. A brilliant baring of teeth; a warning. Squalo narrowed his eyes.

"You going this way?" He asked gruffly, pointing behind him.

"Yeah," Mateus answered, then made the same gesture, pointing up with his thumb, "you going this way, yeah?" Squalo nodded. Mateus grinned, far more naturally this time, relieved, "Then we shouldn't have a problem."

They had different missions after all, and were smart enough to realize they weren't after the same thing. This exchange wouldn't end in a fight, at least, not this time. Lucky for both parties.

Ausiliatrice began walking forward at a causal pace, passing both Squalo and Lussaria with ease. Squalo nearly hesitated, then turned suddenly to address her.

"Hey!" She stopped, then barely turned her head, meeting his own eyes with her abyssal ones.

A thought flashed through her head of how young he was. But she was young too, wasn't she? Too young, both of them.

"Why the hell did you thank me, huh?" He asked her. Her lips barely tugged upwards; amusement.

"You saved me a lot of trouble," she answered simply with a small shrug of her shoulders. Then, she motioned once with her head, and Mateus blinked, and began to leave as well, giving the two a small salute and another grin before the couple left together. Squalo frowned, her answer not explaining much. But had he expected much of an answer in the first place?

"You know her, Squalo?" Lussaria asked, looking away from admiring the man, and once again thinking of the woman.

Superbi Squalo turned on his heel, once again thinking of their mission; the woman only an afterthought, a constant memory embedded in his head.

"No."

* * *

 _He hadn't realized how close they had gotten, until he looked down one day, and saw that she had her head resting on his shoulder._

 _She had fallen asleep next to him, completely at ease. Safe. Comfortable in his presence._

 _She had felt safe enough to let her guard down around him, completely, enough her to sleep, to rest._

 _The ultimate sign of her trust._

* * *

Ausiliatrice repositioned her fingers, readying them on the trigger of her sniper rifle.

"Atalanta is ready," Mateus stated, finger on his ear pierce, and moving the curtain slightly from where he was standing to the side of the window beside her own. "Hecate, do your thing, yeah? Hercules? Go."

Ausiliatrice would be lying is she said she wasn't proud of him. This was the first group mission where she hadn't been standing at his side, giving him advice on positions and where to place the pieces. This was his first time he was leading without her lips murmuring into his ear. And from the looks of things, he was doing a wonderful job.

Aside from complaining, of course. He was a man of action, and watching from above never aligned with him. But it did make for good entertainment for Ausiliatrice.

"Calm down," she told him, picking off stragglers who managed to get away from Hercules, who they both knew was mercilessly hacking away and shredding his opponents into chunks with the massive sword he wielded with ease. Hecate sat causally, across the street from the building, upholding the illusion around it with ease. Mateus, however, continued his pacing, his bouncing.

"You know I can't," he nearly groaned, slowly pivoting, and then once again peeking out the curtain, watching as Ausiliatrice killed another man effortlessly. "I'm just not used to this, yeah? I can't just watch like this," he complained, singing and grabbing an ax, repeatedly throwing it in the air and then catching it again. Throwing and catching, throwing and catching.

One of his ticks, she knew, what he did when anxious, or excited, or nervous. They noticed so many things about each other now. For instance, his small habit of using 'yeah' as a filler, no matter what language. It blended beautifully though, a small personality trait that she had grown used to, grown familiar with. The crinkle of his skin, pushed to his eyes when he smiled.

He had noticed things about her, naturally. How she titled her head when intrigued or amused. How she immediately took note of how many people were in the room, how she could escape if needed, already planning before an attack even happened. Always on edge, always ready to defend, to kill. She counted, people, opportunities, bullets; she was talented in that area, and always made careful notes of her guns and bullets, along with her opponents'. Untrustful, maybe, but completely closed off?

No; it just took someone willing to try. Willing to wait (because they were used to waiting, they were good at it).

An understanding was evident between the two.

Familiarity.

Perhaps even love? But ah, did they even know what that was?

"Hey," she looked over at him, having counted the correct number, knowing that they had succeeded in their mission (a favor, for Hera, dismissing a possible threat to Olympus). She stood, shouldering her weapons and then slowly, hesitantly, put her hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, and then after a look of question and a nod of yes from her, he brought his own hand up to cover hers.

"Can I?" He asked, a whisper at a few moments of blissful silence, the small contact having calmed him greatly. She hesitated, then nodded. He then moved her hand to his lips, and kissed it softly.

"Thanks," he breathed out, warm breath against the skin of her hand as he gently traced circles with his fingertips.

"We get a break after this," she told him, watching his movements, but content. Calmed. He let out a breath of laughter. Relief.

"Yeah," he said, titling his head and then nodding again. Skin crinkling. Grinning. "A well-deserved break, yeah?"

* * *

 _She had become distracted. Stalled. But was this necessarily a bad thing?_

 _She glanced away from her book and glanced down, her hand slowing in its movements, softly stroking his short, textured hair. She watched his nose flare softly and his mouth slightly gape, and his eyebrows knit lightly in vague concentration._

 _Peaceful. As peaceful as there life could be, this is how it was for the moment._

 _In the year since she had first met Mateus, she had no longer kept her ear as close to the ground as before when it came to listening for her father. Before, that had been all she really cared about; a senseless mission and after that?_

 _She gazed at Mateus once more, stopping her movements completely. She lifted her hand, kissing her finger tips, and then pressed them softly on his forehead._

 _For now, this would do. Peace would do, because as of now, this was what she wanted in life. Her father could wait, she decided, while she still had herself and Mateus alone; just the two of them at peace together._

 _This was her love, and it would do for now._

* * *

It was small apartment, made for just two people. A perk of being a Hero of Olympus; expenses being paid for, places to stay being gifted. And the two were content with staying together, sharing this break together. Partners, now, in both aspects. They had come to accept this, without having to clarify, for neither needed clarification. Just the other's presence was enough.

Ausiliatrice watched daintily as he played with the radio, turning the knob, his face scrunched in thought, concentration. It was endearing, really. Cute. She breathed out her nose in amusement then went back to chopping, barely glancing over at his small whoop of triumph. She closed her eyes momentarily, letting the soft, gentle music waft over from the small radio to her ears.

It was nice, she realized in that moment, this life.

She kept her eyes closed, but kept tabs on Mateus as he walked behind the counter, into the kitchen once more. She stiffened slightly, knowing he was behind her, and wondered briefly, frowning, if he was going to touch her without asking permission.

"Sun?" He asked, still a safe distance away, a comfortable distance. Her eyes opened and she turned her head slightly in question, confused. He blinked innocently back at her, arms open, inviting.

"Sun?" He repeated again, flashing his usual, mischievous smile. She looked him over once more, raising a single eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" His mouth quirked further, as it always did when he managed to get her to talk.

"I was thinking," he began, but was interrupted.

"How ambitious of you." He titled his head up, further amused by her jab but continued as if she had remained silent.

"That we should have a safe word."

"A safe word?" She said, her expression unamused as she turned completely to him, crossing her arms.

"Yeah," he said, nodding once, "because sometimes it takes a while to ask, you know? To touch you," he elaborated, "and it will be a lot quicker for you to say no, too. I'll say sun, and if you want me to touch you, you finish with flower." She titled her head, then allowed a small smile.

"Sunflower?" She repeated, as if testing it. He hummed happily, dipping his head slowly and bringing it back up.

"Yeah, makes it easier, yeah?" She laughed, causing his eyes to light up, and his smile to widen, wrinkling, crinkling the skin under his eyes as it always did, as she always noticed.

"Sun?" He asked again. She hummed, and put a finger on her cheek, leaning back as if in thought.

"Flower," she allowed.

He approached her, slipping his arms around her waist, watching her reaction the whole time, careful, so careful not to upset her, to over step, ready to stop if she should want to at any time. He began swaying his body, and in turn hers, and when she slipped her arms and embraced him as well,

he began stepping, and turning, and stepping and turning, until they were out of the kitchen and in front of the counter, and they swayed and stepped, dancing into the small living room. He turned her carefully, and swayed again, and it became faster, much more fun and he smiled again and laughed,

and she couldn't help but laugh as well as he spun her again, this time, sending her hair whipping around her, and she stumbled a bit as she returned to him, but he caught her, like he always did, and paused, and said,

"Sun?"

"Flower."

And he picked her up completely, and spun himself into circles, into circles, and set her down again,

and she laughed, growing louder, and more beautiful, her cheeks slightly flushed, and happy, so happy, and joyous.

"You're not even going with the music!" She accused, pushing his chest as they quelled into more of a sway once more.

"Do we ever?"

Intertwining his arms and almost resting them on the small of her back. She hummed happily, contently, and he did the same, and then surprised him by leaning forward and resting her head on his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, and listened, enjoying the sound of his strong, strong heartbeat. She could feel his fingers playing lightly with her long hair.

A third home.

She had found it.

She looked up at him, lifting her head and separating it from his chest slowly. Her lips parted, as if wanting to say something, but she hesitated. She paused. And then changed her statement to a question.

"Is this what it feels like to love someone?" She asked quietly. He blinked slowly down at her, thinking deeply of this question.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know," she said honestly, raw. She laid her head back on her chest and initiated the sway again, having ceased their movements when she started the new conversation.

"Have you fallen in love before?" She asked quietly, murmuring into his chest.

"Yes," he admitted, just as soundlessly, leaning forward a bit to place his chin on the top of her head.

"And is it the same as this?"

"No," he said, leaning down and whispering his words into her hair, "it's always different."

"Is this…." she started, thinking, doubting, "too different?"

"Yeah," he said, causing her to look up, but before betrayal could reach her eyes, he finished, "but different… in a good way. Good different." She blinked, then titled her head, gazing at his face, taking in his features as if he would die right there in her arms.

"Do you love me?" He asked this time.

"I don't know yet."

"That's okay," he said, seriously, patiently, "that's fine." She looked down, staring at his chest, thinking of his heart beat once more.

"Thank you," she said honestly. "Thank you."

There was a pause, where only the soft music of the radio was playing.

"Sun?"

"Flower."

And he kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So, I got Prom Queen. That was chill._

 _I've been waiting to write their relationship for so long, you guys have no idea. Although I'd had this idea for a long time, since the beginning of the story, I was largely inspire again by Deadpool. I decided to split this into two chapters, since I want to get this out, and I realized that there were kind of two distinct parts. Also, I don't want to make chapters for this story too long. Gah I just love these two so much._

 _ **Review Responses:**_

 _ **SomeoneYouDunno:** Reborn will appear eventually, naturally, but not for while. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 6):** Thanks so much for thinking it's amazing! You're amazing for reviewing! _

_**Tigressa:** I bet your dance was adorable. I'm so glad I made you happy! And thanks for the review! _

_**Lola:** Hope you love this update too! Thanks for the love an review!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 6):** I'm glad that you're curious! And at this time, Dino is about 13 years old, and so Reborn is just about to start tutoring Dino. Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest (Chapter 1):** Ausiliatrice and Xanxus sure will have an interesting dynamic. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 6):** Xanxus sure did feel something. Thanks so much, and thanks for the review! _

_As always, thanks for all the alerts, favorites, and reviews! I've decided I'm going to start a little game every chapter now. I'm going to put a quote after the Author's Note and have you guys guess what it's from (and try not to look it up! See if you actually know it!)! Have fun!_

 ** _Quote:_**

 ** _"We are men of action. Lies do not become us."_**

 _-Evenly_


	8. Lesson 8: To Burn

**Lesson 8: Her Mother Taught Her to Burn**

* * *

She shot the man behind him in the forehead, and moments later, she ducked, Mateus sending one of his axes flying, decapitating the man who was behind her in turn.

"So, the next assignment," he said, walking causally to retrieve his ax as she quickly and efficiently reloaded her gun, "it's in Panama, yeah?" She hummed in acknowledgement, moving on, deeper into the base.

"You want to go somewhere after, "she stated, continuing the conversation while watching the information download on the flash dive there were given. He tossed his ax in the air, still fresh and flicking blood, crisp from the corpses beneath his feet.

"I mean, we have time to, yeah?" He was rambling, she noticed, and skirting around what he wanted to say. "So we can, if we wanted to, stop and stay, yeah, I mean i-" He stopped immediately and smiled apologetically after receiving a sharp look from her.

"I want to take you to my home," he said, looking to the side with a light, nervous smile (but endearing, genuine, like everything else he did), and rubbing the back of his head, "I want to take you home with me, Ausil."

There was a moment, and then:

"Ausiliatrice."

And she didn't have to tell him yes.

* * *

Ausiliatrice's eyes scanned the murky water as Mateus moved the boat further down the river, watching intently, surveying both the waters around him, and the heavily forested banks.

She found herself enjoying this place as well, but wasn't she just drawn to wild places? Apart from civilization. Separate and alone. Although, the humidity, she could live without. She sighed, and rose from where she had been leaning crossed arms on the side of the boat and proceeded to manhandle her mass of hair, eventually managing to put it back and tie it in a ponytail, away from her face. Mateus, snorted, glancing back, amused by the annoyed expression she shot at him.

"Almost there," he muttered, his attitude brightening, a grin spreading. Ausiliatrice perked up as well, in her subtle way, of course. She listened harder, attuned herself more the thrum of the forest; the heartbeat. It was similar to his, she realized with a small tug of her lips, her eyes lingering over and taking in his form. His body was tensed in apprehension, excitement; he hadn't come home in a while and had told her of his happiness to do so numerous times on the trip to South America. There was apprehension as well, but Ausiliatrice decided not to question it.

Eventually, they saw another boat, down the river. Two figures, one older man, and then a small, younger boy. Upon seeing them, Mateus smiled brightly, obvious recognition flashing in his eyes. He cupped his large hands around his mouth, and let out a few whoops of happiness. The older man looked up at them, eyes narrowed, but upon seeing Mateus, now far more detailed and recognizable, he began to mirror Mateus's expression of joy.

"Mateus!" He yelled, pulling a net out of the water and then discarding it in the boat, the smaller boy keeping his in the water and looking at the newcomers with curiosity. Once in proper distance, Mateus jumped their boat, causing the young boy to grip the side with fright as it nearly overturned thanks to the new, added, heavy weight. He embraced the older, frail man, and for a moment, Ausiliatrice seriously feared that her partner would crush him.

But, it seemed like the man had expected this and laughed in good humor, and then coughed, punching Mateus on his back, telling the younger man to let go. And with another robust sound of happiness, Mateus dropped him, causing the old man to stumble.

"Long time no see, gramps," Mateus greeted in Portuguese (the language he was most fluent in, Ausiliatrice had noticed, Mateus being rather choppy in every other tongue), clapping the elder on the back, causing him to cough and hold his chest.

"You haven't changed," the old man wheezed, then coughed again, gaining his breath back. "Your father, does he know you're coming?"

"Nah," Mateus replied with his usual, cheeky, flash of a grin, "it's a surprise."

"I see…." the man's eyes trailed from Mateus, and then settled on Ausiliatrice, who had reached out and brought the two boats together, making sure the younger boy was safe and secure, giving Mateus a disapproving look while gently holding the boy's arm. The child still looked bewildered, having almost fallen into the water due to Mateus jumping in their boat, unannounced.

It was true, Ausiliatrice had a soft spot for children, and the young boy seemed to almost cling to her as they made their way towards the small village, having pulled their boats up onto the bank and now following a quaint path snaking through the forest. Mateus gave her a few cheeky looks as he walked ahead, talking excitedly with the man, but Ausiliatrice ignored them, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction from her.

Eventually, the path had led them to small houses and huts, all warmly occupied, with people sitting or standing outside of them, children hanging out windows to watch people mingle and commute through other paths that cut through the main. Some older children, looking to be at eight or so saw Mateus and ran excitedly up to him.

Mateus's large arms soon had children hanging off of them, laughing and giggling, happily welcoming him back. It was quite the warm reunion, and Mateus was more than well known. He received warm claps and touches, and then returned them with an equally large grin. Ausiliatrice would stand back, watching as always, and Mateus would let her, even divert other's attentions away from her, knowing that she appreciated the shadows far more than the light. She was more than happy to let him have these reunions and not get in the way.

The children, however, he would let through this veiled defense. They approached her shyly, deterred by her eyes, but this turned to curiosity, which lead to vocal questions about her eyes and her hair, and her life, and how she knew Mateus.

He turned once, and his heart swelled; the woman he loved was kneeling, talking gently to the small group of children that had gathered, answering their questions with patience in both eyes and voice, in body and mind. She nodded, gently, and guided the small girl's hand to her hair. The girl smiled and giggled, because Ausiliatrice's hair was like her own.

He loved her, so much. But this was a realization that he had come to long ago.

* * *

"Sun?"

"Flower," she allowed, giving him a sly look as he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her a bit closer. They had lost their parade earlier, Mateus deciding that he wanted to see his father again in privacy.

"Considering you haven't come back in five years or so," Ausiliatrice had berated him, having guessed easily from the ages of the children who remembered Mateus and those who didn't, "this is a smart move."

"Ah, he's used to it, yeah?" He rolled his shoulders and eyes, looking around in the foliage, distracting himself. They were making their way upon the snaking path, deeper and up into a far hillier region. "I mean, I can't just stay in one place, you know that," he nodded again, acknowledging her and she hummed in agreement, "but they need him here, and he understands. I became a hero of Olympus to travel, and to kick ass; you know, have an adventure, yeah? To find something."

"And did you?" she asked with a small tug of her lips. He paused, then looked over at her with shining eyes, brimming with humor.

"I found you, didn't I?" She pushed his chest lightly, and he laughed, only to quell both voice and footsteps as they had reached the end of the path, leading straight to a small, quaint house. Ausiliatrice looked over at her partner, realizing that this was one of the few times she had ever seen him so hesitant, so reluctant. She then grabbed his hand and pulled him up the steps. She knocked on the door herself and stepped back, waiting until a man opened it.

The relation was quite obvious, in the face Ausiliatrice noticed immediately. Compared to Mateus's incredible built stature, his father was rather small. Still fit, though. A leader, like Mateus. Others looked up to him naturally, and trusted him in the same manner. Ausiliatrice knew this all from looking at the man in front of her just once, but he was occupied staring at his son.

A familiar grin, and then:

"What, I don't even get a postcard?" And then the man had wrapped his arms around Mateus, and squeezed and somehow managed to lift her partner at least a few inches off the ground. He groaned loudly, and immediately regretted this decision with a loud laugh. There was a pause, and then Mateus mirrored the action, this time spinning his father around with ease and setting him back down again with a laugh, humored by his old man's complaints of dizziness.

"I always get so stressed out," Mateus admitted, hands on his father's shoulders, "and I also ask myself why after I see your face."

"A lot could change in six years," his father admitted, growing serious for a second, but not being able to keep the mask, breaking out into a grin once again, "but luckily, your old man is stubborn as Hell."

"Like father, like son," Mateus said, going forward to envelope his father in a crushing hug once again. It wasn't until after the man had berated his son for doing so a bit more, than his eyes looked past Mateus and landed on Ausiliatrice. They widened slightly, and turned to Mateus.

"Honestly," he said, eyes turning mischievous, "I never expected you to bring a girl home. And such a looker too."

"Pa," Mateus said, stepping back and gesturing to the Ausiliatrice, as if showing her off, a proud grin on his face. Ausiliatrice smiled, a bit awkwardly she felt, but politely and dipped her head in greeting, waiting for him to introduce her.

"This is Ausil."

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected, her small smile dropping as she sent Mateus a cold look.

"Renan," he introduced, almost hesitantly, staring into her eyes. A moment, and then he laughed awkwardly catching himself and rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, sorry; I apologize. It's just that my wife had dark eyes as well. Not as dark, but, still…." he trailed off once more, remembering with a frown.

"She did?" It was a genuine question from Mateus, who seemed curious, with a pinch of sadness. _Longing_. Ausiliatrice could understand that.

"Never mind that," Renan dismissed, happy again after a few waves of his hand (but it was not forgotten, never. It was still there, festering, in the back of all of their minds; the man's far longer than hers, for it had been placed there far longer). He waved his hand, beckoning them to follow him into the small house, a homey, warm place that made Ausiliatrice feel secure.

"Help me with these," Renan said, going to a corner of crate and other dried foods. He turned, smiling holding bottles of alcohol up.

"My son is back after six years. I think that's cause for some celebration."

* * *

It was a splendid mix of lights and laughter, music and song, people and voices, cultures and skin colors from different places and horizons. People exchanged happy grins and bottles, sharing stories and laughter, giving it away like a gift to a family member. It was impressive, Ausiliatrice thought, how many people were here, from various places, all united in this small village. Only the children were really born here, Mateus had told her, with him being the oldest. The others, adults, they were travelers, wanderers who came into this small village hidden in the forest and settled, content with their new home. The children? They tendered to wander, follow the river and perhaps, maybe come back. Perhaps. Like Mateus. And if not?

They were excitable, rambunctious people, matching Mateus's rhythm. While they drank and laughed around the numerous lights and fire, Ausiliatrice felt content to sit to the side and watch. She had found droll companionship and two elderly woman, one native to Brazil and the other Chinese. Occasionally, she would receive company and compliments, telling how they were glad Mateus had found someone so beautiful; Mateus was having fun showing her off, she noticed, but was careful not to throw too much attention to her. He was kind that way, but still kept to his mischievous streak when giving her greatly amused looks when he noticed her company. No doubt, she would hear about this later, how she acted like an old woman and kept company with them as well. However, she couldn't help but give him an equally amused look when he began dancing with a number of old woman as well.

While the Chinese woman was happy to swap torture techniques with Ausiliatrice (having been an assassin in her youth), the elderly Brazilian had remained quiet the entire time, eerily watching Ausiliatrice's every movement.

"Don't mind her," Yao Song said, blowing another stream of smoke and noticing Ausiliatrice glancing at the other woman, "Luana's a fortune teller; she's just reading you."

"Reading?" Ausiliatrice repeated, tilting her head slightly and setting down her drink, now staring more intently at the dark skinned elder. And the woman stared back with equally blank eyes.

Ausiliatrice stiffened, the woman leaning forward, and putting wrinkled hand Ausiliatrice's face cupping it gently, but firmly.

"Death," the woman said, her voice aged and ripened with knowledge, wisdom, foreboding, "settles on your shoulder blades like wings. And you glide with them. But your eyes," she said, lifting her chin, as if looking down on Ausiliatrice.

"You have the eyes," the elder woman noted, "of one who always in mourning."

The heavy truth of her words (a warning?) sent of cold spike through Ausiliatrice, who found her hand on the holster at her hip without even knowing. Her grip tightened as a warm hand (too warm, almost searing) laid on her shoulder and the woman's hands, _Death_ , was wretched away from her face.

"Ausil? Ausiliatrice?" She looked up, seeing Mateus shaking her shoulder, looking down at her with concern. She blinked and looked at her side, and with a sigh of perhaps relief, she put the gun back into it's holster. His hand hesitated, hovering over the shoulder he had just touched, and then instead, he offered his hand to her.

"Sun?" He asked wearily, watching, concerned.

She took it without saying flower.

As he pulled her to the outskirts of the celebration, she looked back, still seeing the woman staring at her. And when she looked away and towards Mateus again, her partner, her love;

The eyes of death felt heavy on her back.

"If you're wanting to dance, the answer is the same as before," she told her partner, suspicious, but attempting to qualm his worries. Supposedly, he had said her name a few times before touching her, and then, it was only out of alarm. He smiled, a bit forced, she caught, but a smile none the less.

"Nah, actually," he said, turning around and holding her other hand, walking backwards and further on the small path that was leading them away from the lights and music of the party, "I wanted to show you something, yeah? But…. you're okay, yeah?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then she softened, feeling the warmth of his hands, his blood rushing against hers. Her thumb traced circles on his hand, her other fingers intertwined comfortably with his. Warm. Safe. _Home_.

"I'm with you," she replied simply. His face grew warm, and his smile grew fonder. After a whisper of consent, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, lingering.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she replied, staring with half veiled eyes into his chest. A slow blink. And then:

"I love you too."

* * *

Mateus shushed her softly, but stopped, giving her a cheeky grin when she gave him a look. Ausiliatrice looked back, her eyes warm, as they carefully passed the large jaguar laying calmly in the tree, staring down at the couple indifferently. It was different, she noted, than her old companion of the savanna. Sturdier, much more built. The fresh blood on its snout made of obvious that it had just finished a meal, and therefore seemed uninterested in to the two.

"I wonder…" Mateus muttered, now turning back onto the path, securing his arm around Ausiliatrice once more after asking, "if that's the same one from all those years ago. I would like to think so, yeah? To think that he hung around."

"They tend to," Ausiliatrice said lightly humming, "at least, my friend did."

"Friend, yeah?" He said, laughing and bumping her lightly.

"Friends," She corrected and put in as an after thought.

"Wow," he let out a whistle, "with your personality?" She let out a small puff of laughter and pushed him aware, separating them. He laughed again, and then called her back, causing her to stop her movement. He lifted some foliage, and gestured, a wide grin on his face. She raised an eyebrow, but ducked under his arm, waiting until she felt his gentle touch, and then allowed him to lead her once again.

"I wanted to show you," he said, pausing before pushing aside more large leaves, looking back at her genuinely, "I wanted to show you my special place, yeah?"

He moved the remaining greenery aside and led her forward, into a small clearing atop a cliff, bordered by the exotic plant life Ausiliatrice had become familiar with in her time here. She moved forward, and then stopped before the edge, looking down at the great expanse of forest below, overlooking a grand basin, and then above, stars and constellations glistened, clear and undisturbed.

After asking and being answered, Mateus slinked his arms around her waist as they both looked out over the view. He set his head gently against her head and let out a contented sigh.

"Just like you," he whispered into her hair, "beautiful."

"You're just as," she replied, leaning back into him. He scoffed, and moved away, going to sit on the edge of the cliff. He shook his head, as if not believing her words.

"This place," he said, as she went to sit next to him, "I thought of this place when I first saw you. I didn't understand then. But," he said, thinking, hesitating, "I think I do now, yeah?" He paused, his hand going to his pocket, and a calm quiet settled over them. He pulled a small object out of his pocket and turned it between his fingers, as if wanting to remember every detail of it.

"I didn't know you looked like my mother," he admitted suddenly, looking up and out into the forest below them. Her eyes, however, remained on the sky, the stars; freedom and longing both stretched out in front of them. She let him talk without interruption, knowing that he needed to present this to her, as if putting constellations in the sky.

"I never knew her, yeah? When I was little, really small, before I could even remember, she left. She just left. My dad came back in the house one day, and found it empty, just me on the bed…. and this," he said, opening his palm and showing her a small ring with a jade bead, bound in copper. Quaint and small, but beautiful. "It was the ring he made for her. And she just left. This, him, me. Without one word. Weird, yeah? And I didn't get it, when I was young. And you know, I told you, when people leave this place, they don't really come back, yeah?" He took a breath, and closed his hand once again, hiding the ring once more.

"I didn't get it then, when I was little. But then. But then I started to understand; I wanted to leave too. I wanted adventure, yeah? But my dad, Pa, he was scared, because… you know? She left too, and she didn't come back. But I had to leave, you know?" And she did. She really did. And she told him this by moving her hand to his, and linking their fingers. She squeezed once and he continued.

"And so I did. I left when I was 10 at first, and then I came back when I was twelve. I would leave, yeah, but I want to come back. I'll always come back. For him, yeah? And then I left again. I looked older than I was, and I was strong. Started killing. Became a hero. Back then, when I first started out, I just kind of wandered, yeah? And I realized what I was doing. I was looking for her, Ausil. I was looking for my mother." He let out a sharp breath of laughter. A sad crack.

"It's stupid, yeah? I mean, I don't even know what the fuck she looked like, and I don't have any memories of her. Pa, he never even talked about her, and didn't even tell me this was her ring. It's…" he hesitated, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb on his right, and once again turning the ring and feeling it on his left, "it's all that he had left of her. And he didn't even say anything when he saw me with it. He never wants to talk about her. But," he snapped back, moving on, squeezing his eyes tight once, and then letting go, "I realized I was looking for her, yeah? And that's fucking stupid, right? Looking for someone you never met, someone you don't even know. She doesn't even know me. And so I gave up, I guess. I don't really know when. And then I found you," he looked over at her, and then moved his hand, bringing hers up to place the ring into it.

"I that's better than finding her, yeah? At least," he said, looking away after closing her hand around it, and then looking straight into her eyes, hopeful, lovingly, "that's what I think. Fate favors some, yeah?"

Ausiliatrice opened her mouth daintily, and then opened her hand in the same manner, inspecting the ring. It looked far too delicate for someone like her. Far too beautiful and loved.

"I'm looking for my father," she admitted, the statement a wisp of breath. "My mother left me on the savanna when I was ten, with nothing but what she taught me and his name. I've been looking for him since. I was," she corrected, and then looked up into his eyes, "until I met you. And I realized that I was no longer looking."

They had both been found.

Love. Longing. _Home_.

What they had both been looking for.

"I don't wear rings," she said, leaning on his shoulder now, both looking to the horizon. The first light of sun of peaking, ever so hesitantly, as if afraid of what was coming.

"We can find you a chain," Mateus said, mumbling into her hair once more, "and you can wearing it around your neck, yeah? Then it won't get in the way."

"What does this mean to you?" She asked, still looking at the ring, turning in her hand as he had been doing before. "What's its definition?" she elaborated. He shrugged, letting a casual smile slink onto his face as the sun slinked further upwards, in the manner of a wounded animal.

"Whatever you want it to mean," he said, and then straightened, lifting himself off the ground and then stretching. "We should get back," he said, blinking slowly and yawning. "They'll be wondering where we are, yeah? It's sunrise."

It was, she noted, not looking over at him, but looking towards the daunting sun with a firm frown, still feeling the ring between her fingers.

It felt as if he had passed a heavy burden to her, but why was that? Why did everything in her life feel like the sunrise to another tragedy? Why did this perfect scenario feel like a warning.

Mourning eyes, the woman had told her, but Ausiliatrice felt that that mourning spread farther than that. As she slipped the ring onto her finger, on her left hand, on her ring finger, on the blood stream that connected to the heart, she felt this overwhelming apprehension use that channel to spread this feeling throughout her entire body.

She was in mourning even before she had lost.

And as she looked up at him, as he held out a hand, with a bright smile on his face, his entire form illuminated by the sun, she realized that this relationship, being in love with him, accepting this ring; it was all a promise that she felt she couldn't keep.

And yet,

she took his hand. And he lifted her to her feet, but she didn't let him let go. She held onto him firmly.

Mateus was wrong; fate would never favor her. But she would be damned if she couldn't hold onto him for as long as she could. For as long as this sunrise could last, no matter how wounded they were. And in that moment, without her realizing, she was back on the savanna, she was young again, sitting on that road, laying with the lions, sleeping beside her leopard. She had never changed.

She was waiting again.

* * *

Ausiliatrice watched with slightly narrowed eyes, one hand near the gun at her hip, while the other was holding and idly playing with the ring attached to the chain around her neck. She watched as Mateus talked with their employers, eyes narrowing further as they laughed.

The Estraneo Family. Not exactly prominent, but they weren't nobodies either. Known for their weapon making skills and scientific discoveries and what not. Word was, according to Shamal from her last drink with him, that they were working on a rather large project that they were attempting to keep in check and away from the prying eyes of the underground. But, Ausiliatrice knew, it would only be a matter of time before it got out. They weren't strong enough to protect their secrets for long, after all. _Only a matter of time, only a matter of time_.

Mateus was keeping something from her. And it too, was a matter of time before he finally told her what it was. He wasn't strong in that sense, after all, but Ausiliatrice was keen enough to have guessed what he wanted. She knew him well enough after all.

He was acting too friendly with the Estraneo. Too open. Too approachable. And from their stand point, Mateus and she seemed like a nice addition to their family who needed more protection. Who needed to keep their secrets more well-guarded.

It wasn't until weeks later, months after they had come back from Brazil, that she had confronted him on the matter. Ausiliatrice was a straight forward woman, after all, and had felt she had waited long enough for him to come forward himself.

She sighed, looking up from her book, and then set it down, ceasing stroking his head. He blinked up at her, his head having been in her lap, a usual place when they were simply resting. She looked down, raising an eyebrow, waiting (as always, as she always did).

"You want something," she accused, staring down at him. "Tell me." He sighed, pushing himself up, and sitting on the couch, with his back to her. He turned to sit normally, but had yet to turn his head to her.

"I want…." he hesitated, then continued, resolved, but not yet looking her in the eyes. "I want to join a family."

"The Estraneo?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Maybe?" He said, then sighed, leaning back. He had been thinking for a while, she noted. Longing.

"I just want… something, yeah? A family. Somewhere to actually belong," he let a small, yet tired, smile tug at his lips. "I want to be a part of something. You and me, we deserve more, yeah? I want us to be a part of something bigger; an actually family. _Something_."

"We're already heroes of Olympus."

"That's different, Ausil," he told her, sighing, almost sadly, frustrated, "that's not family. That's just work." He stopped, then looked to her, for a response, for anything.

"Ausiliatrice." He sighed, slumping further.

"Aren't you tired?" He asked quietly, staring at the wall, while she stared at out the window, to the sky, frowning. The clouds, she noted, were over taking the sky. Too many to see the bright blue.

"Aren't you tired of this routine?" He elaborated, thinking as he talked, putting words to the feelings he had been harboring for a while now, "We're just floating, Ausil."

"I thought you wanted adventure," she recalled vaguely.

"We had that, Ausil," he said, turning to her suddenly, giving a soft smile. "Sun?" She hesitated, and then replied, letting him envelope her hands in his. "We had our adventure. But don't you think it's time to move on from that? Live for a bigger purpose? Don't you want something else?"

"I want to be free," she said firmly, having known this her entire life, "I want to be unbound."

"Being connected to a family doesn't mean you are bound," he said to her quietly. She hesitated, then shook her head.

"Yes," she said, "it does. I am free now. We," she elaborated, "are free. Together."

"And you want it to stay that way," he realized, closing his eyes sadly, knowing that she would not budge. She never did. "Ausil," he breathed out, tightening his grip around her hands, "please Ausiliatrice, you can't just be stubborn like this. You never commit to anything, yeah?" She ripped her hands away, growing offended. Cold.

"I committed to you, didn't I?" She stated icily. He winced, and reached forward again, but she turned away from him. Her hand went to her necklace, messing with the ring attached to it once more. His Mother's ring.

"You want to leave," she stated. He sighed, turning away as well.

"Not you. I don't want to leave you," he stated, and she knew he spoke the truth. "But" - there was always a clause, wasn't there - "I want to join a family. The Estraneo have invited us. Both of us."

She let her hand fall releasing the ring. In her mind, she recalled another conversation form her childhood; of clouds and weather, of how she wasn't like her mother, that she wasn't a cloud like Esmeralda. But that accusation was incorrect. She was her mother's daughter after all.

"You're going where I can't follow," she told him. But he already knew that. "You go. Please," she said, putting her hand out, gently holding his wrist when he opened his mouth to argue, "you know you can't convince me." He chuckled, hollowly.

"Yeah," he said, then nodded, "yeah. I know. Sorry." She lifted his hand, and gently kissed it.

"I am too," she said. He looked over at her, frowning.

"Are you?"

"I'd like to think so," she admitted, letting his hand fall from her grasp.

"I'm meeting with them tomorrow," he said, getting up and moving away from her.

"Keep in contact, please," she said, looking over at him when he reentered the room with his things later that night, ready to leave. Ready to leave her. He hesitated, and then approached her once more. The clouds had melded together. It was raining now, not a speckle of blue to be seen.

"Sun?" He asked, hopeful and yet sad.

"Flower," she said, already in mourning (always in mourning; mourning eyes, mourning heart, mourning soul). He leaned, kissing her on the forehead one last time. "You know I'll stay in touch. I'll talk to you soon, and who knows?" he said, smiling once more, the skin under his eyes crinkling as always ( _as always_ ). "Maybe you'll join me soon enough, yeah?" She smiled lightly, looking down, knowing that she wouldn't.

She knew a goodbye when she heard one. And she knew that he was too good for her to hold him back. Because she had been thinking too. Far too much on this subject, on how he was too good for someone like her. Someone so tainted. Someone who spent too much of their time waiting and searching for what she didn't know she wanted.

She thought about her father. Reborn. She felt a pang. Of what? Guilt? Resentment? She had abandoned her search for him after all. But did she ever truly start in the first place?

"I love you," she said again, looking up at him when he had reached the door. He looked back at her, smiling once more, crinkling his skin, flashing his brilliant teeth.

"I know," he said. And perhaps, he knew too. She hoped that he knew. And he left without closing the door, leaving it open for her to follow,

and she still let him go.

* * *

"I know a broken heart when I see one," Shamal noted, pushing his empty glass towards the bartender. Ausiliatrice eyed the contents of her glass as well, but made no move to touch it.

Humans were complicated creatures. Fickle. Unsure. Insecure. Happy one moment and the next? Longing for something else unattainable. But she was at fault as well. She had let him go, and yet, she convinced herself that he was far too happy for her. That he could still be happy without her.

Mateus had never contacted her after he had left.

"Shame, I never met your partner," Shamal hummed, looking over at her, "but does this mean that you're free again?" His playful expression dropped, seeing that her attitude had not changed. He was reminded again of how young she was. Of how she was different from her parents. Young love, young love, he thought. Like mother, like daughter, like father, like daughter.

"Free," she muttered, narrowing her eyes, "I was never bound in the first place." She was stupidly stubborn. But he was too. Two jagged edges that fit together perfectly, that she thought would be reunited again. But he hadn't contacted her. Silence for a week. She could hear her own heart beat if she listened hard enough. And it was missing his.

"You said he joined a family, right?" Shamal asked, propping his elbows on the bar.

"Estraneo," she replied. He stiffened, and turned to her suddenly.

"The Estraneo Family?" He repeated, his tone causing her to be on edge immediately. He cursed, running hand through his hair, "shit, it's not really out yet, is it?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously, and turned to him. A dangerous aura emitted from her, causing Shamal to grow hostile as well, hand going to his pocket, ready to unleash a mosquito, if needed, if provoked.

"Listen," he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward, "that family…. they just found out, so it's not exactly well known yet but… well, now it's just a matter of time, I guess." He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Then, he continued, Ausiliatrice listening intently. "Their little 'project' they've been working on? It's a crime against humanity. The whole family is going to be persecuted soon enough. They've been pulling people in and experimenting on them. I heard they're even been using their own children. If your partner was just invited recently..."

Ausiliatrice's hand tightened around her glass, shattering it. She moved quickly, exiting the bar without a word, leaving a bewildered Shamal behind. She waked briskly, weaving between the people on the streets and flipped out her phone, putting a familiar number in while her mind was racing, her blood was boiling, her eyes alive with lividness.

She had been right about his stupidity, and now he was paying the price for it.

She spoke into the phone as soon as they picked up.

"Hera? I need information, now."

* * *

It took too long, Ausiliatrice thought, to get the location on the Estraneo family. By then, word had gotten about their project, and they were being shot down already if they stepped a foot out into the open. On top of that, there was an uproar involving the Vongola that left Hera's informants busy as well. It took another week for Hermes to give Ausiliatrice a solid location.

And when she got there? There was already the distinct smell of copper in the air.

It was child's play to infiltrate the facility, but Ausiliatrice was surprised to already find dead bodies in her path. She kneeled, turning one body over and inspecting the wounds. Larges gashes, awful and already putrid covered the man's front. And as she moved further and deeper through the hallways, she soon put pieces together easily. It seemed that all the subjects had been released, and the dead bodies? Their captors.

A mutiny, she guessed. Betrayal from their own lab rats. She could only hope that Mateus was a lab rat who managed to escape, and not die along with his tormentors.

She felt a pang. Guilt? Perhaps. She should never have let him go. And now, here she was, paying for her kindness.

She shut her eyes for one moment, and then moved on, putting those thought passed her. He wasn't dead yet, she promised herself. But she might as well have been lying.

She rounded the corner and encountered the first living thing she had come across in the building.

A child, splattered with blood. Ausiliatrice stopped, her footsteps silent. She stared at the child, and he stared back. He had an aura to him that unnerved Ausiliatrice. An aura that a child _so young, so young_ , should not have. This was a child that had already taken more lives than needed.

This was a child that reminded Ausiliatrice of herself. Somewhere, in those strange, heterochromatic eyes, Ausiliatrice saw her own reflection. Loss. Grief. _Longing_.

And she knew that the boy saw this as well.

"You're…" his blank expression morphed, into almost one of wary curiosity. Apprehension. He faltered, but then found his voice. "You're not one of them?"

"No," she told him, without breaking eye contact. "Do you believe me?" She asked, eyes going to the dead bodies littered like bread crumbs behind him.

"Yes," he admitted. A child, such a young child, she thought again, repeating as a mantra _. Too young, too young._

"I'm looking for someone," she explained, lifting her chin slightly, opening it, baring it. A sign of peace. Showing she meant no harm. His lip barely quirked, understanding.

Ah, she thought. A predator as well.

( _so young, too young_ ).

"So am I."

"Then we should be on our way," Ausiliatrice decided, moving forward, outputting her aura. Even if he was a child ( _so young, so young_ ) he was still clearly dangerous. But so was she. And he knew this. They passed peaceful, but tensely, Ausiliatrice ready to put a bullet through the child's forehead when they barely brushed against each other, passing quite closely for how large the hallway was.

And then they parted ways. Strangers. Mutuals. Looking for familiarity. Not finding it here.

But she did find it soon enough. She had heard him gasping for breath at first, and then had entered the room quickly, but nearly crumbled just as, seeing the state he was in.

He was laying in the middle of a room, filled with destroyed machinery, corpses, nearly torn part scattered around him like a fairy ring. His body was scarred, nearly beyond recognition. But when she entered and he saw her, barely lifting his head and breathing heavily, blood dribbling from his chin, blood seeping from the numerous wounds on his body, creeping onto the tile below him,

he let out a cough of laughter and he grinned. She saw the crinkle of his skin beneath his eyes and it hurt her. It hurt so goddamn much.

"Dammit," he cough out, turning on his side, and speckling the tile near his mouth with blood, "I definitely did not want you to see me like this. A shit show, yeah?" She took a breath and moved forward, kneeling beside him. She hesitated, and then put a hand on his shoulder, stroking it.

"Sorry," he said again as she repositioned him, moving to kneel at his head and then putting it in her lap. She began to stroke his hair like usual, as if he were simply falling asleep in her lap as he had done many times before. But he wasn't, she knew. He was far too injured. He had lost far too much blood. He was far too injured, far too torn apart. Ausiliatrice was no doctor, no. But she was far too familiar with death to not see it laying out in front of her.

"I tried," he choked out, "I tried to get away when I heard them… I killed a few, yeah? But they had guns," He said smiling weakly, "Bastards had it coming. Thought I didn't have it in me, yeah? But I did, so fuck them, yeah?" More hollow laughter. Ausiliatrice continued to stroke his head calmingly, letting him talk, because wasn't that how it always was? He was their voice, her their strength.

"Took a bunch of them to tie me down when I got here, you know? They used me to test that damn bullet on…." he recalled, wincing. She shushed him, shaking her head.

"You're fine," she muttered, reassuring me, "you're fine."

"Nah," he shook his head, breath labored again, "no, I should have listened to you, yeah? I shouldn't have joined this fucking family. They were too nice, you know? I guess I liked that, yeah?"

"I shouldn't have let you go alone," she told him, still shaking her head.

"Then I guess we're both wrong right?" He said then winced again, shifting slightly, "No, no, you're wrong, I'm the wrong one. That make sense? Fuck," he relented, then fell back after trying to move again. "Fuck," he said again, shaking his head lightly, "you're perfect. I shouldn't have left, you're perfect."

"Shhsss," she shushed him quietly, and stroked his hair even softer, as she always did. "I'm not, I'm not." He laughed again, disagreeing, as always.

"So I was thinking yeah, that we should have kids," he said, stumbling through words now, in Portuguese, what comes easiest to him, his native tongue leaving his lips like the blood that dribbled from them, "Like eventually, when we're older, like we could always take care of kids on the street, yeah? But I was thinking, we'd have some fucking gorgeous kids, yeah? I mean, they wouldn't look much like me, yeah, because I'm fucking ugly. God, how'd I get someone like you, yeah?"

She shushed him once more and shook her head, causing him look from where he had been staring into the void of her curls, and now his eyes were lost in the abyss of the eyes she had never been comfortable with, the eyes that she had always hated. _Her father's eyes_.

"They're going to look like you," he said quietly, his hand twitching, and then being helped by Ausiliatrice as it was guided to her hair, where his fingers gently wrapped and played with the curls, staining them with his blood, "I hope they look like you. They would have your hair, yeah? Because, when I see you, yeah, when I imagine you, that's the first thing I think, you know? And then, your eyes. Those eyes, shit, it's always your eyes. I hope they have your eyes. I hope they look like you, yeah? Beautiful? Perfect?"

"I want them to have your eyes," she corrected quietly, bringing his hand to the side of her face, and softly holding it there, "I don't want to pass these on to anyone."

"No, no," he said, letting out a bit a laughter, coming out in chokes of blood, "they're beautiful, you're beautiful." And she nodded, not agreeing, but assuring, knowing. And he knew too.

Time; they were running out of it.

"Ah, fuck," he coughed out suddenly, shame leaking into his voice, blood still seeping out of the numerous wounds littering his corpse, "I'm sorry," he choked, "sorry. I forgot, and I've been touching you this whole time." He laughed, but it was cracking, falling apart like the rest of his earthly body.

"It's fine," she whispered, still holding his hand to her face, "it's fine."

"No, no," he shook his head weakly, voice aching, and waning. "No, it's not, I know you don't like it." His face contorted as he barely managed to shift himself. A breath. And then.

"Sun?"

"Flower."

"Sun."

"Flower," she finished, voice cracking, seeing that he was fading, voice, spirit. Everything.

"Sun," she said, this time, for the first time, asking to touch him.

"Sun?" Her hand tightened around his, limp. Still warm, and yet unmoving.

"Sun?" And there was no answer. Ausiliatrice bit her bottom lip hard, and squeezed his hand one last time before returning it to lay by his side. She took a breath, and then leaned over, and put her head on his chest, feeling the warm blood smear on her cheek. She closed her eyes, gently, and listened in the same manner.

There was no heartbeat.

* * *

She figured that the young boy from before had found who he was looking for, and they were now safely away from the building. And if not? Ausiliatrice was burning it either way, and would watch it go up in flames from a distance with numb eyes. Mourning eyes.

Her mother had taught her how to leave things properly, to erase all traces and leave only ash. This was one of Esmeralda's ways of running way. This was how her mother forgot things; in the heat of passion and flames, leaving only embers. As was her way.

But Ausiliatrice disagreed. Ausiliatrice was different. She burned the building to remember Mateus; to embed his memory, his smile, his body, and give him a proper send off in the beauty of embers.

She didn't set fire to things to forget them; she set fire to remember. So this light would always reach and lightly brush against her memories.

Of course, she would be a fool to think that the flames would consume everything, as many secrets and experiments she knew this corrupted family to have. But, it would do for a sendoff. It would do to honor Mateus.

His body was far too corrupted and disheveled ( _violated, violated_ ) for her to take, and she honestly didn't think that option was open to her in the first place. But, she realized coldly, hands going to grip the axes, his axes, that were now on her own back after she had retrieved them; she realized that she had a job do now.

Ausiliatrice turned away and began walking, leaving his body to ash, leaving this horrid place that killed him to flames and embers and smoke.

Somebody had to tell his father, after all.

* * *

It was a clear enough message, her returning alone, without him. No one dared approach her as she walked through the village, eyes staring at her, then at Matues's axes at her sides. Even the children knew, perhaps more than the adults, and they let her pass solemnly.

She met eyes with the elderly woman, Luana. And she made herself look away. Mourning eyes indeed. For her mother. For Matues. For herself? No. Never.

As she stood in front of Renan's door, she thought to her necklace, to the ring hanging from the chain around her neck. She thought of how his mother left and never returned. She thought of how she could not fulfill his promises not to do the same.

She knocked, and Renan answer, a smile on his face upon recognizing her, but it disappearing just as quickly when he didn't see Mateus accompanying her. He looked, seeing his axes strapped to her sides. He swallowed. A moment, and then:

"Where is my son?"

Mateus had always been able to pull words, full conversations even, just from looking into Ausiliatrice's eyes. And it seemed that his father could understand her looks as well.

His face contorted into wordless pain until sobs wrecked his frame and escaped from his mouth, twisted, unsure of their placement, not knowing how exactly to express this tremendous loss, and he fell forward, now delivering his emotions in volume

and Ausiliatrice caught him as he embraced her tightly, not knowing what else to do but catch him and let him fall apart in her arms, having no one else left in his life now that his only son, his last blood relative was torn away and burned to ashes. He came undone in her arms, having lost his son, who left and never returned, like his wife, who left and never returned. He fell apart, and Ausiliatrice didn't know what else to do but to catch him and allow him to do so.

If she could throw his ashes into the sky and make a constellation of Mateus, she would. But Ausiliatrice was far from a god. A Greek hero, perhaps, because even demigods made mistakes. Heroes died; she had learned this when she was a little girl. A constellation would be nice, but she supposed this would do as well.

He would have wanted you to keep them, Renan had said, but she knew she could not bring herself to use them. Not like he did. Not after this.

Guns and bullets were her method of murder for a reason; death by distance, and even when in close range, it was quick and efficient, and it was done and over in less than a second. Nearly painless for both parties. And although Ausiliatrice was proficient in most weapons, and although she knew how to skillfully defend herself,

Mateus's axes were put to a much better use marking his grave.

But it wasn't really a grave was it? For it to be grave, there would have to be body, and she couldn't bear to bring his mutilated ( _violated, violated_ ) corpse back to his home. He wouldn't have wanted to return that way.

Instead this was a monument to him, his life. Them. In the place, his favorite place, his secret place, where he had brought her the first night he had brought her back to his country, his home.

She placed his axes, fixating them firmly in the ground, overlooking the expansive forest beyond; his home. Her hand went to her necklace and she shut her eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

It was at this moment, she allowed herself to realize that he was gone. She had watched him die. It wasn't just someone leaving her, like her mother had. There was no chance that he would return; there was no doubt that he was dead. Gone. Lost.

And it wasn't just losing another life, for she took so many, and Death was a far too familiar companion in her life,

no: she had lost a third home.

And this realization came to hit, hit her so harshly and violently, like a gun shot, like a bullet, it came to her just how she preferred to kill.

And she fell to her knees, and cried out harshly, ugly, sobbing and screaming out his name, and longing for him to be beside her just one last time.

Because she loved him, and even more, he loved her back.

Humans were complicated creatures.

Loving. Resilient. Fragile. Cruel.

But fate was far crueler than people could ever be.

And so Ausiliatrice fell with melted wings, having lost her vivid sun,

wax burning, searing.

And there was no one there to catch her.

* * *

 _"People_

 _are not_

 _rain_

 _or_

 _snow_

 _or autumn_

 _leaves;_

 _they_

 _do not_

 _look_

 _beautiful_

 _when_

 _they_

 _fall."_

 **-Nav K**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I felt like the world was trying to stop me from updating Seriously. Every time I sat down to write this, BAM. Something popped up. So, yeah, sorry for the wait!_

 _Oh boy, looking through your reviews was an experience. Most of you easily guessed that Mateus was going to die, because, well I didn't exactly try to hide the fact, and there were a lot of things pointing to it, and also the fact that Ausiliatrice can never seem to hold onto anything that makes her happy. Poor girl._

 _But yeah, imagine me evilly cackling and giggling. That was me reading the reviews that begged me not to kill Mateus, or said something along the lines of "oh boy I hope nothing bad happens to him". Le mayo._

 _Don't hate me too much, yeah? Love you all!_

 _ **Review Responses:**_

 _ **fangirl:** Yeah, he was pretty cute, wasn't he? Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest:** Nah bruh, he doesn't survive long enough to even meet Reborn, and if he did? Well, I don't think he would have survived that. Then again, I could imagine Reborn either really liking Mateus or just wanting to torture him. Hm. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Tirgressa:** Aw, thanks so much! Here's some more writing to spoil you! Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Quote 'Em (What I decided to call the quote game):**_

 _Congratulations to **Winterherox2Summervillian** for guessing last chapter's quote correctly: it was from The Princess Bride, one of my favorite movies. This quote is also from one of my other favorite movies: _

_**"I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I soar."**_

 _Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites!_

 _-Evenly_


	9. Lesson 9: To Leave

**Lesson 9: Her Mother Taught Her to Leave**

 **Age: 18-25**

* * *

 _"She was still waiting for him to come back to her, even though he wasn't going to. She was still holding out for something that wasn't going to happen. She was good at waiting. That seemed like a sad thing to be good at."_

 **– Ann Brashares**

* * *

When was the last time she had cut her hair? Had it ever truly been cut before, chopped and berated? Nothing more than trims, she recalled.

She had her mother's hair. The wild, coiled and curled locks had fit Esmeralda so well, and had swiveled and bounced as her mother would move and talk and turn and spit the familiar, white hot fire out from between her lips. Her mother had taught Ausiliatrice how to take care and maintain this hair, different techniques to tame if it needed, and to braid into dreadlocks as Esmeralda had often worn, if not just letting it fall naturally.

Ausiliatrice recalled pleasant memories of her childhood, sitting in front of Esmeralda, her mother's legs crossed and hands in Ausiliatrice's hair. Esmeralda's voice would be peaceful then (such a rare occasion), and her fingers would work methodically, as her mother taught her, as her mother taught her, as her mother taught her; the matriarch had always been strong in their family. Had ( _had, had, had_ ), according to her mother. Past tense. But the lessons lived on in her mother's fingertips. This movement coming as a reflex now, naturally, having done this to her hair many times, and now doing it to her daughter's. And although Esmeralda had made sure to teach Ausiliatrice many ways to put her hair up and away, braid it beautifully retain elegance,

Ausiliatrice had always preferred her hair to be down and free. It was a source of pride almost. Honor. Showing culture and heritage and strength. Showing her blood without spilling it. It was all these things to Ausiliatrice and she herself was fond of its beauty.

Mateus had loved her hair as well.

When she had become comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed, he would ask to hold her and rest ("Flower," she would murmur tiredly, _as always, as always_ , because he _asked_ and _always respected_ ), and he would pull her lightly to him and whisper into the curls of her hair as if the strands could keep secrets.

But now she lay in the bed, her arm over the spot where he would have been. She stared into the empty space where his eyes should have been. Hair curtained, fanning out behind her head and shoulders, body sprawled across the bed as if it were a crime scene.

Her eyes were dead.

She was beyond mourning.

She pushed herself up, her hair draping around her shoulders. Moonlight, perhaps bright and blinding on the outside, filtered heavily through the curtain, giving a shadow of light to the room. She shifted herself to the edge of the bed and then padded soundlessly to the bathroom. The fluorescents were harsh and blaring, but the mirror was far crueler.

She twisted her body, her hand trailing the still healing wound across her bare abdomen, her abyssal eyes following its path in the reflection. Blaming, bagged eyes shifted back to the woman in front of her.

She had grown far too reckless with her jobs in the past year since he died. Her kills becoming messier, far more brutal than they had ever been before. But ah, that seemed to just excite her employers more, and the blood brought in more wolves. She would massacre and slaughter, execute and exact gore, and receive her money from terrified hands, and leave. Other than receiving the money itself and actually killing her targets, she rarely had true human interaction now. She didn't want it. Although still connected through Olympus, she had requested to receive assignments through texts. She had requested solo missions and only that. And Hera complied without a question asked.

Ausiliatrice become far more known and perhaps more terrifying than before. But it wasn't simply the violent manner she now left her targets in that made her so enthrallingly petrifying. It was how she carried herself, how she was presented; as if she had already died. As if she had reached immortality and gotten bored with it. She walked like a goddess of death among mortals, and this was understood the moment she entered the room. It was her unchanging, stone cold expression.

It was her eyes. Piercing and uncaring entirely. Endlessly empty and devoid of any mortal emotion.

She had always hated her eyes, but now? Even more so.

Because he loved them. Because he cared. Because he would stare into them hours upon hours and still tell her that he loved her entirely. Because when she looked in the mirror, she didn't want to see orbs of empty blackness. She did not want to see her own abyssal, black eyes.

She want to see brown and warm, that were freckled with flints of gold when caught in the sunlight. She wanted to see the wrinkle of skin underneath them and then the familiar flash of teeth. A wide nose and dark skin, supported by a strong jaw and square face. A grinning face, a loving face. She wanted to hear his callous, choppy voice. She wanted empty promises of love again.

She shut her eyes completely, pained. A breath, deep and ragged. She then allowed her eyes to open once more, and her hand to wander from the scar and then to her neck.

She wore his necklace, his mother's ring around her neck like a guilty promise. Familiarly, her fingers trickled to the back of her neck and her nails encased the clasp of the chain. They hesitated, standing ready to release the clasp and allow the necklace, the ring to clatter against the tile floor and be forgotten. But her hand fell and her body followed.

Ausiliatrice shifted and allowed her arms to wrap around her knees as she pushed her back against the bathroom walls, the tiles sharply cold against her bare skin, stinging.

She was tired. Of waiting? No; this was a constant state of no escape. She had understood this even before he had died. She had grown familiar with waiting for the next tragedy of her life.

She was tired of mourning. She was tired of hurting. She was tired of taking her empty rage out on corpses. She was tired of fighting recklessly with the hope that she would be killed too.

A year later, and she was still unhealed. She doubt she would every fully recover, because did you ever truly heal from deaths? No. They followed like the sun, and eventually people's skies were full of stars.

But wasn't that a beautiful sight? A night sky alight with stars, glittering their farewells for eternity. Perhaps Mateus was in her sky after all; a constellation of their love.

Her hand, which had made it's way back the ring, stalled with her thoughts and then went to her hair. She lifted a strand, inspecting it, and then watched as it fell.

She rose and moved back into their bedroom, picking up a long knife from the top of the dresser and then to window. She threw open the curtains, allowing the full shine of the room, a much more pleasant brightness compared to the manmade lights of the bathroom.

The light covered her form and she closed her eyes, letting it wash over her. She let her body relax as if letting go of a heavy burden and allowing it tumble and fall below her.

She thought of Mateus. His smile, his voice, his eyes. He had always loved her hair.

And in one swift movement, she gathered her hair in one hand, raising it and using the knife in her other hand to slit through it as if it were a throat. She let go and it fell heavily to the ground, strands of curls now floating slowly around her as if they were wishes from dandelions.

Mateus had always loved her hair, but

it could grow back.

And so could she.

* * *

She stood on the roof, looking out and across the Parisian skyline.

She took a breath and closed her eyes tightly, recalling how many times she had sat with him, here in this spot, talking and murmuring, laughing and often just leaning into each other. Simply enjoying the other, without the need of words.

Ausiliatrice had always been a woman of few, after all.

(and he _understood_ that, _understood her_ )

Another breath, and her eyes were open and she was moving again. She was moving so often now. Four years since he had died, two since she had stopped taking jobs.

Travelling to forget, or travelling to remember, she didn't know. But she needed this break. She needed to wait, _just a bit longer, just a bit longer_ , she told herself. And maybe she could forget him. But did she want to?

(no)

And yet she continued to try, to travel. Because they had saved up enough expenses to do so for a while. And if it came down to it, she could take in a bounty quietly (she had been keeping her skill intact, after all, for it would be foolish to let herself slip up even a little).

But for now? She would wander. Because she didn't know what else to do.

She soon found herself in a small art show. Quaint. On a quiet, endearing street of small boutiques and cafes. Not many other people in the building, but that was fine with Ausiliatrice. She looked at the art with listless eyes and walked slowly around the exhibit. And then. She stopped.

She stared at the piece in front of her, abyssal eyes taking in the warm tones. Following the flowing lines of the petals, and then were drawn the dark center.

A sunflower.

But instead of it hurting her, like she had expected, that familiar numbing stab of pain, Ausiliatrice was surprised by the warm emotion welling up inside of her. She found her hand had made it's way to the her necklace, and soon she blinked, realizing the her eyes had started watering, if only a bit, if only for a moment.

A sunflower.

 _Mateus._

She turned suddenly, her still short hair swinging and bouncing around her head with her, as she realized that she was being watched. Panicked green eyes widened, and the smaller figure nearly stumbled back due to Ausiliatrice's quick movement.

"Sorry, sorry," the woman stumbled out quickly in French, "I didn't mean to startle you, really, it's just…" she looked away, her cheeks, reddening. Ausiliatrice calmed herself, berating herself for zoning out like that (making herself vulnerable), but took this time to take note of the woman in front of her.

She was much smaller and had a softer, more rounded figure. Short but incredible vibrant red hair framed her face, wavy but soft looking in texture. Bright, rounded, green eyes looked away in embarrassment as her pale skin was easily over taken by her blush.

"I'm sorry for staring," she repeated softly, poking her fingers together and still looking away. There was a pause, and Ausiliatrice waited, knowing that she was struggling to say something else as well.

"Vivian," the girl said suddenly, holding a hand out.

"Ausiliatrice," she answered with a nod, not taking the offer. She looked at the painting once more, before her eyes shifted back to the redhead. "The artist?"

"You noticed that?" She looked away, nervous once again and hastily retracting her hand.

"I notice a lot," Ausiliatrice stated.

"Do you… do you like it?' Vivian asked, coming to stand a bit closer to Ausiliatrice as they both looked at the painting.

"It reminds me of someone," Ausiliatrice stated.

"And… is that good?"

Ausiliatrice paused, thinking. Once again, her stomach fluttered, and she was warm.

"Yes." Vivian nearly glowed, letting out a nervous huff of laughter and then smiling brightly. Ausiliatrice sent her a side glance, taking note of her smile, her teeth, the curve of her lips, and the still there, but much softer blush sprinkled across her cheeks. She had freckles, Ausiliatrice saw now.

"Are these all yours?" Ausiliatrice asked, looking around the small gallery once again.

"Ah, the ones in this room, yes," Vivian said, hands going behind her back as she moved on the balls of her feet, twirling her skirt as she turned, "Mademoiselle Beatrice was very kind."

"They're all very warm." Vivian blinked, then looked up at the dark-skinned woman. Once again, it was as she was hit suddenly with a vision, the sun sprinkling through the window behind her just right, her hair curled and wild around her face, but creating an enchanting frame around the woman's face, her lips perfectly plump and pulled, cheek bones sharp, and her eyes….

She blinked suddenly, realizing that she had caught staring once again. Dark eyes looked down at her almost distrustfully. Ausiliatrice's shoulders barely turned to leave before Vivian could put her hand on one, causing Ausiliatrice to stiffen.

"Sorry," Vivian stated, stepping back lightly, but then she gathered her courage, knowing, telling herself that she had to say this, "sorry, for staring it's just… when I saw you looking at my painting, and just seeing you… well," she sputtered all while blushing heavily once again, and then drawing courage, looking up suddenly, meeting Ausiliatrice directly, looking into her eyes,

 _and not looking away or flinching_ ,

"I just wanted you to know that you're very beautiful and I just wanted to paint you!" Vivian then shut her eyes tightly and turned her head, deeply embarrassed by her words. But it was the truth, and Vivian was honest, and Ausiliatrice could see that clearly.

Ausiliatrice blinked down at the artist, surprised. She then turned her head slightly, looking at the painting. The sunflower. Her hand stalled it's twirling and she let go of the ring around her neck. She looked back at the woman in front of her, still a little red, but incredible honest, endearing.

"So…" Vivian asked uncertainly, only knowing a few things, and one of them being that she wanted to know this person better, this person who thought that her art was _warm_ , "are you just visiting?"

"Travelling," Ausiliatrice corrected, still in thought. Always moving. Never staying in one place for long.

"Would… would you like to grab a drink with me? Coffee?" Ausiliatrice's eyes shifted to hers, and black eyes met vibrant green

(different than her mother's far more inviting, and hopeful, and _warm, warm, warm_ )

"I would like that."

And Vivian smiled brightly, and glowed, and reminded Ausiliatrice so much of someone else...

She supposed she could stay in Paris for a little longer.

* * *

"Are you drawing me again?"

Green eyes widened amusingly from behind the sketchbook, propped against her legs, bent as the rest of her body was folded against the other arm rest of the couch. A light blush spread across her cheeks, and then she smiled easily. Brilliantly.

"It's just… the lighting and the angle were perfect…" Vivian mumbled, returning to her drawing and glancing up again, fixing lines and proportions. Ausiliatrice hummed, amused, her eyes returning to gaze out the large window of the apartment. It was raining, but soon, Ausiliatrice could feel, it would be cold enough to snow, to freeze over. This brought a slight frown to her face.

"Can I see?" Ausiliatrice asked, looking over at her companion. Vivian blinked, and then brightened, excitement glimmering in her green eyes. She nodded and then scooted closer, closing the gap between them and coming incredible close to Ausiliatrice.

For a second, the taller woman stiffened, feeling warmth against her body, and her breath caught in her throat momentarily due to the close sudden contact. But,

 _this was fine_ , she assured herself, forcing the sickly, hot feeling back down her throat anchoring it in her stomach. _This was fine_.

"I'm thinking of painting it," Vivian said, looking down at the sketch with Ausiliatrice.

"You already have a portrait of me," Ausiliatrice hummed, lips tugging lightly, seeing the skillful sketch, taking in the lines and the forms of her own body, graphed onto page, seeing her own features, her own hair, still cut short and froing around her face, each curl drawn with intent, and then, her eyes, not as dark due to pencil, but still almost wistfully looking at something unseen, beyond the boundaries of pencil on paper.

Vivian puffed her cheeks, and looked over at Ausiliatrice, shoving Ausiliatrice a bit with her shoulder ( _this was fine, this was fine_ ).

"The lion doesn't count," Vivian told her with an amused roll of eyes.

"I think it's an accurate representation," Ausiliatrice disagreed, eyes drifting to the half-finished lioness portrait, an up close perspective of the animal's face. Vivian laughed lightly and pushed herself up.

"You're weird," Vivian stated, and then smiled again (and Ausiliatrice suddenly saw, for just one moment, the crinkle of dark skin beneath the eyes), and then she said, "but I love you for it."

Ausiliatrice froze, the words repeating in her head. Love? Is this what love felt like for the second time? She watched, now idled, distant, cut off from the small studio and home around her as the redhead went around the room leisurely, putting things away and tiding her supplies.

Could she love this woman? There was certainly charm, otherwise, Ausiliatrice would have never spent this much time with Vivian. She wouldn't have stayed in Paris for this long if the artist had not drawn her in. She was bright. Passionate, about others and about her art. Her goals, her ambitions. She was kind, and loving and happy. She was a sun. Pure and radiant.

But could Ausiliatrice ever love this woman?

(after him?)

Or was she simply using her to forget Mateus? To force herself to move on? This wasn't the first time she had asked herself this, of course. It was a reoccurrence, a motif of thought as she continued this relationship with the vibrant, sun-like artist.

(but ah, wasn't he a sun as well?)

"Ausiliatrice?" She nearly jumped, her hand lashing out to grab Vivian's wrist. Ausiliatrice blinked, and upon seeing her pained face, the loosened her grip, guilt flooding through her. Gently, she brought her other hand to encase the offended wrist.

"I'm sorry," Ausiliatrice said, rubbing circles delicately into Vivian's pale skin, "I was startled."

"It's fine," Vivian whispered back, forgiving, but still looking at Ausiliatrice curiously. There was a moment, and then Vivian leaned forward, pressing her lips against Ausiliatrice's forehead. Ausiliatrice immediately stiffened, steeling herself, clamming herself up completely. Unresponsive.

Vivian moved back, looking at Ausiliatrice through heavily lidded lashes.

"You ready to go?" She asked softly. Ausiliatrice simply nodded once, allowing the smaller woman to grab her hands and lead her out of the apartment.

This was fine, she assured herself. Because this was how relationships went.

This was fine.

* * *

Ausiliatrice braced herself against the headrest as Vivian's hand ran gently through her curls. The smaller girl was straddling Ausiliatrice and pushing her body against the taller woman's. Vivian's lips trailed messily against Ausiliatrice's collar bones,

(Ausiliatrice was breathing heavily, eyes shut tight, and remember, recalling a similar situation)

and then to her neck, her jaw,

(her skin felt _uncomfortable_ , and sticky, and incredible hot and _uncomfortable, uncomfortable_ )

and finally, they brushed lips-

And Ausiliatrice roughly pushed the other woman away, snapping her eyes open and moving to the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, struggling not to panic, struggling to push her killer intent back that was rising like bile in her throat. And Vivian was breathing heavily too, staring at Ausiliatrice, hurt, almost offended.

(Because she didn't understand, she never could, not like he could, not like he did)

"I thought…" Vivian muttered, frowning, her eyes nearly brimming and then breaking, "I thought that we were fine, that you were- that you were… It's been two years, Ausiliatrice!" She said suddenly hitting her fists against the sofa, tears falling from her eyes and pattering onto the sheets. Ausiliatrice simply stared forward, out the smaller window of the bedroom.

It was snowing, she had thought numbly, her breathing now have calmed, but her body still rigid.

Winter had finally arrived.

"I thought that you were comfortable now, that you actually loved...," Vivian continued, wiping tears away now, _not understanding, not understanding_ , "I thought you we-"

"No," Ausiliatrice said, cutting her off, but not looking back, never looking back, "I don't…. feel that way, Vivian. And I won't apologize for it."

Because she was just this way, and there was no use trying to fit herself to someone's standards, to their wants, not when she didn't want the same.

Because Ausiliatrice wasn't the type to change who she was for some else, to force herself to feel things that she had no interest in feeling.

And Vivian realized that suddenly, looking over at the woman she had idolized for the past years, had viewed as a piece of art, and perhaps nothing beyond that. And she felt shame. And guilt. She turned, facing her back to Ausiliatrice and brought her knees up, hugging them.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, genuinely, because she truly was and had never meant to hurt the other woman.

"Yeah," Ausiliatrice said, voice hardened, yet genuinely sad to see this end. But it was over, and they both knew it. Because their interest didn't align.

And this was fine. And they both realized this. But for now?

"Me too."

Ausiliatrice would leave, because she was used to people leaving her,

and for once, she would leave for a change.

* * *

The dust settled easily as Ausiliatrice put the kick stand up and swung her leg over the bike. Leaving it, she ascended up the old steps, the wood creaking uncertainly under her. She paused at the top, reviewing the aged, yet familiar porch. She walked it carefully, stooping down when she noticed dark, extremely faded marks on the floor, as if something had been dragged across the wood.

And it had, Ausiliatrice knew, and she felt as if she could still smell copper distinctly, and she knew what that dark substance was.

(Blood. Rashida's. And for a moment, it was as if Ausiliatrice was there, watching as the leopard pounced and the bullet Rashida shot miss, and his teeth encase her neck, and she could hear the snap, and smell the fresh blood, and she watched as he dragged her limp body across the porch and then leap into the tree with his prey as if she were another antelope, another feeble animal, because there wasn't really a difference was there?)

She tore her eyes away from the trees, having almost expected to see her old companion there, and went to the horizon. She moved to the railing and leaned, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.

Listening.

And there it was, the heartbeat of the savanna, once again intertwining and falling in tune with her own.

She missed this.

She missed him.

 _Them_.

But, she knew, opening her eyes and seeing the familiar sunset, beautiful and heart breaking, that it was time to move on. To leave this place once again. Because although she still fell in this place's rhythm so easily,

this was a former home to her. And not a current one.

Her hand went to her hair, which she had continued to keep short over all these years until she was ready to grow once again,

until she was ready to stop stalling herself,

until she was ready to leave him behind,

but not forgot. She didn't want to forget Mateus, or the Savanna (not matter what happened her, because that was behind her as well)

or her mother. No, she would never forget any of her homes but,

it was time to leave and search for the next one.

It was time to start searching for her father again.

* * *

Out of all the places he had expected to run into her, Superbi Squalo would have never guess to have run into her at a coffee shop. He was surprised, shocked, that he hadn't immediately notice her when she entered. And yet, he stiffened immediately and turned, ready to retrieve his attachable sword hidden beneath his coat the moment he had heard her voice.

"You've grown your hair out. I like it."

He turned, expecting a blank face and merciless eyes. But instead he saw a calm demeanor and a slight tug of lips. She was completely at ease and seemed content. He narrowed his eyes, looking at her own appearance. It had been years, but she had always been recognizable. Unforgettable.

"I see you've cut yours," he stated, almost carefully. She barely smiled, her hand going to touch her hair, now just below her shoulders.

"Yes," it was barely a hum, "I've kept it short for a while now."

There was lull in conversation as Squalo waited on edge. She only spoke again once they both had received their drinks.

"Sit with me?" She asked, surprising him. But what surprised him more is the fact that he said yes.

He had pondered why, looking at the woman across from him. Despite him being rather hostile, she remained quelled, eyes looking out the window and watching the snow daintily fall to the ground, ignoring the busy people on the street outside the small café. he didn't know whether it was due to her cheeks being slightly flushed from the cold weather, or perhaps it was just her natural skin, but it almost appeared that she was glowing. Radiant.

"I know that the Varia have been keeping track of me," she started, causing his eyes to narrow. "But," she allowed, eyes shifting over to him, nearly pinning him down, "I was pleasantly surprised that you had never contacted me."

Them keeping track of her movements, he thought to himself, had been more of a hobby for Xanxus (thinking of him sent a pang through him, and he grimaced, simply thinking of the state his boss was in at this moment). He allowed his eyes to shift to the snow as well, and the woman sitting before him seemed content, allowing him silence.

How cold was he, trapped in that ice? Did it feel as if his skin was surrounded in shards? Glistening and cutting, hurting him and scarring. Would he bleed when he came out? If? No. _When_. Because Squalo refused to think that Xanxus would never return.

"You've been quiet for about six years now," Squalo stated simply. This had seemed strange to him, when he had realized that she had no longer been taking jobs, killing, massacring. She shrugged, a simple graceful movement and took a sip of her drink.

"Travelling," she stated simply. He merely grunted in response.

Bel, he recalled, had been extremely disappointed when his new obsession had quieted. He remembered easily when her style had shifted suddenly. Used to, she had been elegant in her kills. Her partner had been the brutal one, but only due to his weapons and strength. She had always maintained a certain tact, a certain beauty. But that had been haphazardly thrown and discarded. Her killings become gored and blood filled. The bodies left mutilated, nearly beyond recognition. Their youngest had been enthralled by her, and the moment Squalo let slip that he somewhat was familiar with the woman, he was pelted with questions by their resident prince. The whole ordeal had been rather annoying and Squalo could feel the start of a headache coming just thinking of it.

But the woman sitting in front of him currently? She was different. Quieted, perhaps sad, but much more at peace.

"Why didn't you pursue me?" She asked suddenly. He blinked, looking over at her curiously. He could see how she had inspired Xanxus. He had been there, after all, but their encounter, watching her performance had lit a flame in Xanxus. Squalo recalled the way his companion's eyes had lit up in fascination and bloodlust, watched the way he had gripped him guns without him even being aware.

"I want that," he had told Squalo, "that power. That strength. I want that, and I'm going to show all those fuckers that I'm strong enough. Powerful. Like her. And then I'm going to show her."

As thanks, if what went unsaid, but understood (because they always seemed to understand each other, those two).

Even now, resided and at peace, even though she had been out of the game for six whole years;

She was still very much a lioness sitting before him, regarding him curiously. Even at rest, she had the hum of power and pent fury, the capacity for it. She had inspired Squalo as well that night, sure, but Xanxus?

He had found a kindred spirit.

(Predators indeed)

"He wanted to ask you himself," Squalo said, looking out the window with her, watching as the snow grew heavier, far more aggressive and harshly whipping around the people outside. They simply watched. She hummed with vague interest at this.

"Xanxus," she said, as if testing the name on her lips, "was it?"

He wanted to show you himself, Squalo silently added, to show you how far he had grown from that day. They were just children then, after all ( _so young, so young,_ but now what were they?).

It was almost a lie, truthfully, what he had just told her. He had only wanted to ask her to join when he felt that he come to his true potential. When he felt that he was truly a lion, and could approach her proudly, and make even a lioness such as herself acknowledge his strength and raw power. And _perhaps, perhaps, perhaps_ , respect it enough to bow down and follow.

But, more pressing matters came to light. And rage consumed his mind. And look where that landed him, Squalo thought bitterly.

(And when Squalo moved his arm, his stump, ever so slightly, in that moment his veins consisted of ice and shards, and _cold_ , and he was in the ice, feeling what he felt, right there alongside him, suffering, suffering. If only)

And now the swordsman was waiting. And Ausiliatrice knew about waiting, and easily recognized it. She had waited for so long, after all. And still was.

"You're loyal," She reviewed him suddenly, eyes inspecting him, "and that kind of devotion is rare. Does he know?" She asked, titling her slightly.

Squalo could only hope. If not? He would be damn pissed.

(because he was in the ice, he was there too, waiting, waiting, waiting)

She finished her cup and stood, walking to the small trashcan nearby. She looked back at him again, pausing in front of the door.

"Just so you know," she called back, her eyes fixing him in one place again. In their abyssal depths, he picked out a warning. Or perhaps, a hint of playfulness?

"I'm growing my hair out as well."

And she left.

* * *

 _"How interesting of you to call. It's been too long, and yet I always knew you would return. Heroes never truly leave us. What type of job would you like? It's been so long after all. A simple one?"_

 _"I want to topple an empire."_

 _"...Welcome back, Atalanta."_

* * *

Ausiliatrice entered the facility smoothly, receiving many stares and glances. But she was used to this. Music and lights blared and blurred around her, but she was not here for the entertainment those around her were ogling at, grasping at. Instead she gently put her hand on one of the worker's shoulders, and shook her head when questioned.

She leaned over and whispered in the woman's ear. Her eyes went wide in surprise and she stood back, taking in Ausiliatrice completely. She then smiled widely and laughed, and grabbed her arms, excited words and praise tumbling out of her mouth. She quickly led Ausiliatrice through the building and then to the back room. Ausiliatrice remembered the grungy and even more aged place vaguely, and the memory was warm.

She entered the other room, lifting the curtain and immediately meeting dark eyes. Not as dark as hers, but still, a small smile made its way to Ausiliatrice's face.

Mariana appeared as if she had not changed at all, her appearance untouched by the years. Her incredibly dark skin looked immaculate and she had retained the same incredibly calm demeanor. Once again, the only give away of her true age being her hands, even more wrinkled and withered than Ausiliatrice recalled as the woman cupped her face gently.

"Look at you," she breathed out, taking in Ausiliatrice's features and allowing a smile. "You look just like your mother."

The statement almost hurt, but Ausiliatrice hid it, instead removing the woman's hand from her face gently.

"So I've been told." Mariana let out a bark of laughter, falling onto the couch beside Ausiliatrice. She hummed, her hand shifting through the pockets of her robe and pulling out a cigarette and lighter.

"Don't worry," she said after the first puff of smoke had left her lips, "your old man's there too. You've got his cheekbones."

Ausiliatrice blinked. That was a first.

"But I doubt this is just a visit for old time's sake," Mariana continued, "otherwise, you'd have stopped by a long time ago. You want something."

"Information," Ausiliatrice supplied. Mariana raised an eyebrow.

"What? Your little, fancy organization can't give you what you need?"

"Olympus is efficient," Ausiliatrice explained, causally leaning back and crossing her legs, easily and elegantly. In command of the conversation, "and yet, even they cannot give me everything I need. Information on the person I'm looking for is rather tight lipped. And I find myself needing to rely on older, perhaps more efficient means."

"If that's a slide to my age, you're not helping your case," Mariana countered, and yet there was still amusement in her voice. "Finally looking for your old man, huh?"

"I thought I was before," Ausiliatrice admitted seriously, "But I was holding myself back."

"And you think you're ready now?"

Ausiliatrice didn't answer the woman, and only replied with a hardened look.

"I'm honored you're come to me for help," Mariana said, "I'm touched, genuinely. I knew your mother for a long time. But still, I'm surprised you'd want to rely on me for such important information," Mariana admitted with a casual roll of her shoulders. But Ausiliatrice had caught the glimmer of truth in her eyes, and that was all she needed to know.

"What can I say," Ausiliatrice said without wavering, "word of mouth can be far more reliant that ink on paper. And you've been around far too long not to be embedded in this trade."

The older woman blew out a stream of smoke and allowed a smirk.

"Dino Cavallone," she informed Ausiliatrice simply. "Get close to him, and Reborn will come to you."

"You're sure?" Ausiliatrice asked, already well aware of the name and frowning.

"I wouldn't lie to Esme's kid," Mariana replied truthfully, almost sadly. "I came across some information years ago…" she started suddenly, as if she had been considering this from the moment Ausiliatrice walked in.

"She just left you, didn't she?" Mariana asked, looking over at Ausiliatrice, the daughter of someone she had once considered family (that she still does). Ausiliatrice didn't even have to nod to confirm this. Mariana sighed, and then snuffed out her cigarette in a nearby bowl. She rose and moved to another part of the room, to a dresser, opening a drawer and then removing a false bottom. She carried the small file over to Ausiliatrice again, throwing it on the coffee table in front of them and leaning back, draping herself on the couch once more.

"Thirteen years ago," Mariana began, "They had her cornered and she was heavily injured. Managed to run into an abandoned building and hold her own for a bit. Then they set it on fire," she explained, watching as Ausiliatrice leaned forward tenderly to review the file, flipping through it and reviewing the reports, the pictures, the words herself. "Found her body inside, and they could confirm that it was her. Found another body too. A kid. Looked to be about eleven or twelve. They assumed it was her kid. They assumed it was you. But I had a feeling that you weren't dead. I knew it. Esme wouldn't have allowed that."

"They," Ausiliatrice murmured, looking at the picture of her mother's burnt and mutilated body, "her family," because it wasn't Ausiliatrice's family, it had never been hers and they had barely been Esmeralda's, "they didn't care about us, did they?"

"They never did," Mariana answered, watching her carefully, "those kind of people only care about their image. And when one of their brood mares runs off with a bastard child?"

The question went unanswered. Because the answer was Ausiliatrice's life.

Ausiliatrice put the file down on the table once more. She shut her eyes momentarily before opening them, and looking over at Mariana once again.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, "for telling me this."

Because this was the final shove she needed.

"Dino Cavallone, you said?" Mariana hummed in acknowledgement.

"Word is that Reborn is training him," Mariana said, "has been training him for quite some time now. That's why he hasn't made a stir in a while. Well, that," she added with a tilt of her head and a sly look, "and another reason."

"The curse?" Ausiliatrice guessed. "Tell me what it is."

"I'll let you figure that out on your own," Mariana teased, smiling lightly and then laughing when Ausiliatrice frowned. "You have her pout too!"

"But," the older woman said again, becoming more serious, "you have to understand. I've been in the game my entire life. Longer than most people. When you've done this as long as me, you get to know people. You get information. You play the game, and you figure out how to survive. I've heard things, I know things. And you will too, eventually," she ended looking over at Ausiliatrice warmly and then adding, "but you've got to figure this out for yourself. Understand?"

Ausiliatrice simply stared at her with those abyssal eyes. And then nodded.

"I've understood that my entire life."

Because she was born into this dangerous world,

her mother's daughter, her father's child,

and she was going to damned if couldn't play this game well.

* * *

Hera inclined her head lightly, her chopped hair swaying back with it as she reviewed the woman sitting in front of her.

She supposed that Ausiliatrice had been one of her crown jewels in her collection. A true assassin, a killer by heart, skill coming naturally, power in every footstep. She had been eyeing the girl long before Meleager had approached her. By her orders of course. It had been a gamble, to see if he would actually reel her in.

But Hera was a people person. She knew how to read people, how to gauge them. She saw their power the moment they walked in and she craved it for her own. Because it didn't matter if Hera wasn't powerful herself (although it would be rather unfortunate to think that she couldn't hold her own), but why kill herself for something she could find in other people. In pawns. And Ausiliatrice was the queen of her collection.

But unlike Meleager, Hera wasn't planning to build her up to be a leader. Because she was already beyond Hera helping her. She was already far beyond reach of normal people, assassins, mercenaries. Only the true elite compared to her, as if killing ran in her blood (and _it did, it did, it did_ ).

It was a shame what happened to Meleager (a true shame, really, for Hera favored him and had planned a bright future indeed), and for a while Hera feared that without him, Ausiliatrice would not return.

She remembered with excitement how Ausiliatrice had fallen into a bloodied rage, each mission becoming more brutal, the style in which she killed becoming completely and totally ruthless. A true monster that lived up to Hera's expectations. Beyond them, actually.

But then? Nothing, for years. Hera was concerned that she had finally lost the most prized of her possessions. But somehow, always, the woman had known that she would return.

And her she was now, sitting in front of Hera like a deity, actively playing into Hera's plan.

Because Hera's true intentions have always been to raise her heroes to new heights, and then benefit from those positions without having to lift a finger herself. They never forget who got them their start, after all, and Hera made sure to leave a good impression.

And she wanted to leave an ever-lasting one on the predator sitting before her.

"I'll admit, Atalanta," Hera purred, lifting her glass to her lips, "I'm surprised that you're asking for a job like this. Long-term never suited you."

"Preferences change."

"I'm sure they have over a number of years." Hera's eyes barely narrowed when Ausiliatrice offered no apologies for her extreme absence. But wasn't that just like the girl? How zealous.

"You're aiming high, as well," Hera continued, "Dino Cavallone?"

"I don't settle. You know that," Ausiliatrice responded, her expression unchanging.

"Yes, you certainly don't." A ghost of a smile appeared on Hera's lips, recalling the job Ausiliatrice had wanted upon her return. An empire indeed. One of the largest and most corrupt weapons corporations had crumbled within a week. Ausiliatrice had certainly stayed in shape in her absence, that was for sure. And after that? Well, the want for Hera's most skilled mercenary and assassin rose exponentially.

"I'm anything if not generous," Hera purred.

"Are you?" And the woman smiled, beautifully, brashly, almost cruel to look at.

It was a direct threat. A vivid showing of teeth. It was this moment Hera truly missed Meleager (and she felt _fear, fear, fear_ and rightly so); the medium between her and Ausiliatrice, who was not one to follow orders, commands, to be ruled over. And the moment that she felt that Hera was trying to do just that?

"I'll do anything in my power to aid you," Hera said truthfully, intertwining her fingers in her lap and straightening.

Because that meant keeping Ausiliatrice close, in her graces. And Hera was not letting a true diamond like her slip between her fingers.

Ausiliatrice's eyes barely narrowed, and then, a small incline of her head. Barely exposing her neck more.

A sign of acceptance.

"Well then Atalanta," Hera started smoothly with the slight sliver of a smirk, "how does body guarding sound to you?"

* * *

 _"Flowers grow back, even after they are stepped on. So will I."_

 ** _\- Resilience_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I would highly advise listening to "With You" and "Nothing Stops Another Day" both from Ghost the musical, as it adheres to this chapter and Ausiliatrice's grief very well. I listened to them both a lot while writing this._

 _I was elated at how many responses I got saying that they cried over Mateus. I count that as a win for Evenly!_

 _Thanks for all the lovely review, follows, and favorites!_

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **Francis (Chapter 8):** Ha, yep. Lookie there. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **John Jay (Chapter 7):** Yeah, they did have a pretty good dynamic. Too bad he's dead. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Hankertin Fitz 3 (Chapter 6):** Haha, you flatter me! Yeah, but senior trip was lots of fun! I got to hang out with a lot of good friends and had a blast! _

_**Tigressa (Chapter 8):** Hope you enjoyed your ice cream! And thanks for thinking I'm amazing and for the review! You're amazing! This may have helped you feel better? But who knows. _

_**Lynne D. Mariza (Chapter 8):** Aw, thanks so much! You're making me blush, really~ Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Nekoneko (Chapter 8):** Congrats on guessing the quote! And you were right about the travelling part, my friend. Thanks for the review and for guessing the quote! _

_**Guest (Chapter 8):** Aw, your poor heart. Thanks for the review! _

_**Jackie Frsot123:** Aw, you cried! You poor thing. Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest (Chapter 8):** It's okay, I ugly cry too when I actually cry. Glad to know you thought it was sad, and thanks for the review! _

**Quote Em:**

 _Congrats to **MarvelGeek13** and **Nekoneko** for guessing that the quote was from Serenity last chapter! Love that movie, and that quote hurt to even type. _

_This chapter's quote:_

 ** _"The loving tell the dying not to leave, and the dying do not listen. The dying tell us not to be sad for them, and we do not listen. The dialogue between the living and dead is full of misunderstanding and silence."_**

 _-Evenly_


	10. Lesson 10: To Miss

**Lesson 10: Her Mother Taught Her to Miss**

* * *

 _"I saw a man pursuing the horizon;_

 _Round and round they sped._

 _I was disturbed at this;_

 _I accosted the man_

 _'It's futile,' I said,_

 _"You can never-"_

 _'You lie,' he cried,_

 _And ran on."_

 **-Stephen Crane**

* * *

 _"I have an associate."_

 _Ausiliatrice's eyes snapped from landscape as they passed to Hera's reflection in the window of the car._

 _(And for a moment, with thrill because these sort of things, dangerous people, they just thrill her don't they? For a moment, she was reminded of a basilisk's gaze redirected in the reflection; diluted to the point where it would not petrify, and yet still incredibly terrifying enough to strike fear and petrify in the metaphorical sense. But that was enough, that was enough)._

 _"A former associate really," Hera added offhandedly, causally shifting her weight and looked away from the other woman and out her own respective window. "A retired Hero actually," Hera elaborated, fixing a minuscule mishap in her otherwise perfected make up. Instead of responding, Ausiliatrice's eyes slid back into place, observing the landscape once again. But this was a normal response._

 _"He has quite the influential position in the Cavallone Family," Hera continued despite this, "He was close to their former boss, and had joined many years before. He was a part of Olympus when he was much younger, before that of course, but," she said, smirking slightly, smugly, proudly, but with reason behind it, with truth to back it, "Heroes are always willing to pay tribute for what I have given them."_

 _Because that was the reason Hera began Olympus; to put people in high places and benefit from it. To help those with potential who otherwise could not amount to it._

 _It was an equally beneficial relationship, Ausiliatrice could clearly see. A relationship Ausiliatrice was fully prepared to use to her advantage, to wring it out as much as she could._

 _And after this relationship was no longer of use to her?_

 _(After she found Reborn, met Reborn? What would she do then, who would she be then?)_

 _(Without Mateus?)_

 _Ausiliatrice once again looked over at the older woman. Evaluating. Judging, weighing options._

 _Well then._

 _Ausiliatrice had always made the best of her circumstances. And just as Hera was using her, Ausiliatrice was sure to do the same._

 _And wasn't that just courtesy?_

* * *

Romario took a breath, using the window of the large hotel room as a mirror in order to straighten his tie. His eyes flickered to the street below him, every now and then checking in hopes of seeing a familiar car perhaps, familiar head of dark blue hair, perhaps an extravagant dress decorated, detailed in a distinct peacock theme.

Hera hadn't contacted him for years. And perhaps – no, he knew this was because she had no need of him. She was happy to see him join a prestigious family, after all. That is what she wishes for all of her heroes, and hopes that they will accomplish.

And he was quite happy where he was. The right-hand man of the boss of the Cavallone. As he had been with the boss before. Romario had never been that much of a fighter, after all. No, not a warrior, Hera knew; a guide, a teacher, one who is gifted with guidance. And so that was what Hera had nurtured him to grow into, had helped him to be. And here he was now, years and years later, Olympus behind him, and at the side of one of the most powerful men of the underground.

He frowned, his hands releasing his now-straightened tie as he met the eyes of his own reflection.

He came here on Hera's request to make clear that this, where he was now, what he had amounted to with or without her help… the Cavallone Family came first.

His boss came first.

And he had every intention to make that known to Hera, no matter what her mysterious request was.

And as he turned at the sound of the door opening, he had this in mind, steeled

but the thought never even brushed against the smooth skin of his lips as he viewed the woman that entered first.

For a moment, he thought that is was Argus, without her coverings. But no, the woman entering was far slimmer than the incredibly buff Muslim, although looked to be about the same height. Tall, much more graceful than Hera's usual aid. But perhaps more powerful, seeing that as soon as she entered, her presence rippled through the room. Not in the brute, physical way that Argus was (although, she looked to be incredible athletic still, agile in her footsteps, even at a casual pace). Her wild hair settled on her shoulders and spilled beyond, ending about five or so inches perhaps past them. She was armed, he could tell and she walked, as the coat she was wearing moved, revealing two holsters on her hips. With bayonets, he noted. A beautiful woman, anyone would admit. Cheekbones high and sharp, large lips, drawn and plump, and her skin a brilliant darker shade. He wavered, however, glimpsing her eyes for just a moment.

But she moved to the side of the room, making way for Hera who walked in after. The woman seemed completely uninterested in Romario, but he was hyperaware of her presence, of her as she kept to the outskirts of the room. A deadly shadow on the borders of his vision. But despite him being aware of the danger she could possess, the power she extruded, he was somehow convinced (he somehow _knew_ ) that this woman posed no threat to him at the moment. Or perhaps it was that he was no threat to her.

Either way, Romario felt secured enough to give Hera his attention.

(but he was aware, attuned to the other woman in the room, for only a fool would be unaware of a lion laying nearby)

"I appreciate you meeting us here, Chiron," Hera greeted, giving a sultry smile as she draped herself onto the couch, gesturing for him to take opposite. Romario gave a taut smile as he sat.

"Chiron," He repeated, the name so familiar leaving his lips, "I haven't been called that in years."

"It never truly leaves you," Hera stated. A thinly veiled reminder, they both knew. The start of negotiations.

"Understand," Romario said, "I do appreciate what you did for me in my younger years. But I am the right hand man of the Cavallone. Family comes first. You know this."

"Of course," Hera purred, giving a small nod of understanding, "I would expect no less. And in fact, I come with an offer that will aid the Cavallone."

Romario stiffened, hearing a small click and then feeling the soft, faint brush of wind. He angled his head slightly, seeing that the woman from before had opened the window, and had now placed herself on the sill with elegance and poise.

"How is your boss, speaking of?" Hera drew his attention back to her, away from Ausiliatrice, "I had never had the pleasure of meeting him, after all. Shame," she hummed with a dreamy smile, "I hear he's quite the charmer." Romario allowed a chuckle.

"I'm afraid he's a little young for you," Romario warned, "He's only 21 after all, but, as you know, is doing remarkably well taking care of the family." The woman on the sill gave a soft, barely heard snort of amusement (a jab, Hera knew, at the revelation of the older woman's age), in which Hera responded with a stern, slightly put off look, but quickly regained her composure.

"A man who has your loyalty is a great one, I don't doubt," Hera said, "You've never been a fighter, after all. Chiron. A guide. A teacher. Someone who stands at the side of power."

"A place where I'm very comfortable standing, you know," Romario moved on, "I'm very happy with my position, and with the man I am under."

"What is he like?"

The older man's eyes slunk, his head turning again, from Hera's form to the shadow, the intimidating figure leisurely sitting on the open window sill. She almost looked draped, as if positioned for a painting. A portrait of beauty. One that, despite this, conveyed danger. No, he understood; potential danger. If provoked. If challenged. But he would be a fool to challenge someone like this woman.

Her hand rested, seemingly easily, causally, at her hips, on her holster, but he was experienced to know, intelligent enough to be aware of how fast predators like her could be. Ah, that's what she is, he suddenly realized, the word that perfectly conveyed everything about this woman:

a predator.

A warrior was far too brutal a word, but she was far worse than one. Far more cunning, far more invasive, more tactful. She had a deadly grace to her, from her movements to her appearance.

Her eyes, though.

He had seen them somewhere before.

(but they were different, weren't they? If only slightly, if only)

Perhaps, long ago? But it was only a guess, a faint grasp at a memory.

"My boss," he said, maintaining eye contact, taking in, fully, her abyssal eyes for the first time (was it though? Was it the first time he had come across eyes like that? No), "is a great man. He pulled our family through troubling times and has helped the Cavallone rise since then. Despite being so young, he has accomplished much."

Romario didn't know what to expect from this woman. He didn't know how she would take his words, his praise for his boss. But she surprised him and scoffed, almost a sneer. And she turned her head, her attention, her eyes, away from Romario and out to the cityscape.

"That's not what I meant," she said simply. Almost disappointed.

And she was done with him then.

"She's my offer, you know," Hera called his attention back to her. Romario barely raised an eyebrow in response. There was a sharp spike, and Romario felt as if, for a moment, the room itself held it's breath.

"I'm nobody's to give," Ausiliatrice sharply reminded, not even looking over at them. And yet, the message was clear. Crystal.

"Of course not," Hera recovered, allowing herself to relax her body once more. Then, continued: "She's usually an assassin, you know. Top notch. Professional to the t. Atalanta, I can say with absolution is the best of Olympus."

 _Atalanta_.

With awareness of just who he was in the presence of, Romario grew even more on edge. More acutely aware of just who was sitting leisurely right behind me. This was a woman who easily topple regimes. One of the unclaimed best of the underworld. Rumored to be Varia Quality, and Romario had no doubt that she was.

"Although usually a fighter," Hera continued, "Atalanta has graciously decided to offer her services as a bodyguard. Call it a way for her to broaden her skill set."

"And why the Cavallone?" Romario questioned, "you have plenty of connections in other places." Because this was a solid fact; Hera had an extensive network. Olympus was just the center of it, former heroes being the threads that branched out and connected it all.

"Why not the Cavallone?" Hera threw back, "Why not such an impressive and extensive family? After all, someone like Atalanta would never settle for the weak. Call others unworthy if you will."

Hera leaned back, watching as Romario's mind raced. This was one of the things she loved about him. He was an intellect, a planner, similar to her. But softer, and warmer, much more so. Hera took into consideration others, sure, but it was in a far colder and more calculating way. She considered their future and how she could help them, yes, but Romario had always been warmer, more like a parent when he helped others. He did always have a soft spot for children, she recalled.

"I," Romario spoke, "will consider this." Hera barely hesitated, then smiled beautifully.

"That's all we needed," she thrummed pleasantly. Hera's eyes lurked behind Romario, meeting the eyes of Ausiliatrice. A moment, and a slight question. And then a nod from the darker skinned woman. Allowance. Permission. Acceptance. Hera smiled once more.

"I'm sure," Hera concluded, holding out her hand, "that your boss will be charmed to meet her." Romario met his former employer's eyes, almost defiantly, but amused. Willing to play this game. He lifted his hand, and then lifted hers upon contact, kissing the top of it instead of shaking it before speaking.

"And vice versa."

* * *

"A body guard?" Dino Cavallone asked, sending a quizzical side look to his right hand man. "I don't know… do you really think I need one, Romario?"

"Truthfully boss, her guarding you isn't really the reason I considered it," Romario explained. Dino paused, then placed his pen down, abandoning the paper work in favor of the conversation. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, interlocking his fingers, and then pressed his lips gently against them. Romario continued.

"Atalanta," He stated. "You've heard of her, I presume." Dino hummed.

"Don't know of someone who hasn't. She's made a comeback, hasn't she?" Dino recalled, distinctly, hearing of this woman. His tutor even took note of her, which was slightly impressive in itself. Dino halted his thoughts, his eyes shifting almost accusingly to Romario. "An assassin as a body guard?"

"I wasn't thinking of having her as a body guard, per say," Romario explained, "but rather, having her for intimidation." Dino raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"With the absence of Reborn" – Dino nearly winced at this, being reminded of his tutor that left merely days ago – "I feel that you need someone similar to instill, well, not fear really, but rather to have a great influence backing you." Dino sighed, frowning.

"You think I'm not intimidating enough when I need to be," he flatly accused, a slightly sad tone to his voice. Romario's expression turned apologetic.

"I believe that you'll learn to be in time, boss," he said reassuringly, in a softer tone (his boss looked, Romario noted, almost like he was pouting, and Romario was once again reminded of how young he was), "but I was concerned that there would be a gap after Reborn left." Dino hummed, lifting a hand to scratch his chin.

"I see your point," he said with a sigh, "I guess there would be an adjustment period after Reborn, right? I still expect him to jump out and reprimand me for not doing something right," he said with a chuckle. But that faded and then his expression morphed to a thoughtful one.

"You said that she's from your old employers, right?" Dino asked, looked over at Romario. He nodded in return.

"Olympus, yes."

"I thought she was unaffiliated, though?"

"Olympus isn't exactly a family," Romario explained crossing his arms, and then putting a hand on his chin as he formed his explanation, "it's more of an agency. Heroes may do favors yes, but jobs and missions just run through Olympus. Heroes can leave anytime, really, but Hera… she gives opportunities that people wouldn't be able to find on their own, if that helps."

"This Hera…. is there an ulterior motive to this?" Dino considered.

"Other than Hera trying to get Atalanta to join an influential family?" Romario offered, "I honestly can't see one, boss. If Atalanta had a mission to kill you, then you would already be dead," Romario explained with a serious expression. He blinked, then looked over, noticing Dino's stricken and pale face.

"Geez, Romario!" Dino reprimanded, blanching and even looking around the office as if as assassin would pop out in that moment, "you can't just say stuff like that!" Romario blinked again, then laughed at his boss's reaction, even clapping him on the back.

"Don't worry, boss," he said, grinning, "If you're that worried, then maybe we should just get her to guard you!" Dino grumbled, but was teasing in the way that he shooed Romario away.

Dino humbled, however, and considered his options. For a moment, his mind flickered to his tutor. What would Reborn say?

 _"Stupid pipsqueak. A good boss would never turn down an offer to make such a powerful ally."_

Dino almost winced, easily imagining the pain of the kick to the head he would receive before such a statement. He straightened, running a hand through his hair.

"Well," He said, shrugging, "I guess I should meet my new body guard first, huh?"

* * *

Disappointed certainly did not cover how Ausiliatrice felt when she saw that her father was not with the boss of the Cavallone when she first met him.

But then again, Ausiliatrice couldn't exactly pin point how she felt about the possibility of meeting him in the first place. It was the feeling of watching a child tear the wings off a butterfly; witnessing this horrendous act and feeling incredibly distant from the act of violence derived from such innocence. An ample metaphor, and yet it still didn't give her the exact adjective in which to describe this feeling. Ausiliatrice enjoyed quick and efficient words. And this feeling gave her none of those.

Honestly, she was rather unimpressed with Dino Cavallone. Perhaps it was his attire: cargo pants and sneakers topped with a printed shirt and a green and black jacket overlapping. Not quite the attire she expected a mafia boss to present himself in. But she supposed he was young (about four years younger than her, she remembered. Did that make her young as well?).

He presented his hand and a lopsided grin.

"Atalanta, right? Dino Cavallone," he introduced, nodding his head bit. She glanced down, still unimpressed, at his hand and did not take it. Romario coughed into his hand behind her, obviously trying to cover his laughter.

"Pleasure," she replied curtly, her expression unchanging.

"Right…" Dino trailed off, taking his offered hand and retracting it, choosing instead to run hand through his blond mop of hair.

Atalanta terrified him. More than he would logically expect.

He had met beautiful women before, sure, but she was stunning. And she was clearly powerful; simply everything about her expressed this. How she walked, how she held herself, he could list things perhaps all day. But these factors were not what nearly unsettled him. No, it was her eyes.

(It was always the eyes, wasn't it?)

Black and abyssal. Familiar. Why were they familiar?

Just looking at her eyes struck such an absolute and terribly familiar sense of foreboding in him that he wondered if he could handle her being around him for such an extended period of time.

(No, he reminded himself, he was a mafia boss, and more importantly, a _motherfucking adult_ ; he could handle one woman with incredible piercing eyes. No matter how much of a chill they sent down his spine)

She started walking forward suddenly, entering the doors of the mansion that two of his subordinates were holding open.

"Hey, wait up!" He called, running a bit, and then falling into step with her long strides. "I can show you around if you want," he offered looking over at her, and nearly shrinking back when she glanced over.

"I can find my own way," she assured him. He chuckled, and shook his head.

"Really, it's no problem, honestly," he managed. Her lip barely twitched. She had hoped that venturing further into the mansion, that maybe, perhaps, she would see him. But after taking up the don's offer (something that had made him grin again, lopsided), and then later realizing that her father wasn't in the mansion, and then later being informed that he actually left just days prior to her arrival,

Ausiliatrice very suddenly felt the urge to shoot something.

"Do you have a shooting range?" She asked suddenly. Her self-appointed tour guide carefully answered, seeing her hand twitched, incredibly close to one of the halters at her hip. He paled, and he congratulated himself on doing so only slightly.

"Right this way."

* * *

 **EXTRA: Of Peacocks and Poison**

When she was nine, her father beat her into the ground for speaking against him. When she was ten, her own brother raped her. When she was twelve, she was sold to an older man to be wed. When he was killed, she was traded again, and given to the son of a wealthy man.

And throughout these monstrosities and acts against humanities, Hera thought,

if only, if only,

she had power. To fight against, to reign over, power to belong to herself and be her own person.

When she was hit, she no longer cried out. When they forced themselves on her, she no longer reacted. She remained motionless, rigid,

but Hera watched. She learned.

From her first husband, she learned the use of words and how valuable the skill of manipulation was. His lack of led his death, but Hera only learned from it. With words and demeanor, she made herself appealing. She embodied charm and dressed herself as a gift in order to regain a high standing.

By watching acts of foolishness, she gained intelligence. She watched others get punished and learned from it. She honed this intelligence and weaponized it, making it into a bladed fan; one that established exquisiteness but also secrecy. She established a network throughout the household of her prison. From the gardeners, she learned which plants were poisonous. From the maids, she learned her father-in-law's routine. From the cooks, she learned which meal the plant would blend the easiest, and from there? Mere child's play.

From there, Hera saw, she was considerably high. As her husband goggled, and slept, and groped, and fucked other women, she was free to her own devises. And yet?

She wanted power. More. Because she was still that little girl crying on the dirt floor of their small shack they dared call a home.

And that little girl wanted to be raised higher.

And she wanted to give others the same opportunity.

Because, Hera thought, how _dare_ those with potential not be able to reach it? It was blasphemy for them not to achieve their destiny. And so, Hera decided, she would help them. Because if she could help herself to the height she was now, why couldn't she her others such as herself?

Those who amass to great potential.

Demigods among mortals, perhaps even gods? Because they – well,

Tartarus isn't too far a drop from Olympus.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So I am literally moving into my dorm tomorrow (actually today since it's technically morning, but whatever), and I wanted to update at least one of my stories before I actually start college. I'm also stage managing a show too, so that and college is part of the reason why I haven't updated in a while. So sorry about that, but I'm pumped about college! I have two studio classes and I'm in Honors and other stuff so I may die, but it's fine._

 _Anyways, I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but think of this as almost a prologue into the next arc. Also, I added in Hera's backstory, because I've had that on my phone for a while. Also, I just really wanted to update because I haven't in a while._

 _ **Review Response:**_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 9):** Thanks for think it's glorious! And also thanks for the capital G. I'm blushing, really~ Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Jackie Frost123:** I'm excited to get the plot rolling too! And I think that my love for Squalo is leaking into this story, because I find myself sticking him in random places all the time. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Mia Wallace:** Thanks for thinking that it's interesting! And cool name! Love that movie. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 5):** Thanks so much! And I'm thankful that you let me know how you felt about that sensitive topic; I definitely think it should be brought to light more, since it's an important topic that is often ignored of over looked. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **FireImp:** Awe, thanks so much! And you hit the nail on the head with guessing Dino would be terrified. Actually, you were pretty damn accurate in the way that your description is about exactly what I pictured Dino thinking when he first saw Ausil. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Quote Em:**_

 _Congrats to **Ketsueko** for recognizing the quote from Welcome to Night Vale! One of my favorite podcasts if that wasn't obvious (I'm pretty sure I mention it in Author's Note all the time. Whoops). I'm also getting into Serial lately too?_

 _Here's an easy one that I chose because of irony:_

 _ **"I am not throwing away my shot!"**_

 _-Evenly_


	11. Lesson 11: To Love Part 2

**Lesson 11: Her Mother Taught her to Love Part 2**

 **All Quotes used in this chapter are by Warsan Shire**

* * *

 _"give your daughters difficult names, give your daughters names that command the full use of tongue. my name makes you want to tell me the truth. my name doesn't allow me to trust anyone that cannot pronounce it right."_

* * *

Aged, wrinkled hands (calloused, not soft, not like a woman's hand should be) carefully overturned the smaller hand, soft hand, bared hand of a child. The elderly woman's curt fingernails lightly scraped against the vulnerable skin of the palm; lighter skin than the other side. The child squirmed. The grandmother ignored this, fingernails now tracing the young folds of the open palm, yet to be deepened by years and years.

"Love your dark skin, Esmeralda," Her grandmother stated, voice accented, voice aged, foreign, not like the many other voices Esmeralda was so used to hearing (but she loved it because of this, her grandmother's foreign voice, foreign tongue), "for it is your mother's skin. It is my skin, and my mother's before mine. Know," he grandmother said, looking up and meeting the bright, green ( _green, green, green_ ) eyes of her granddaughter, "that it is beautiful."

The grandmother gently encased the younger's hands with her own; wrinkled skin pressed against new. Generation reaching for generation and melding skin. Her grandmother was darker, as was her mother. But Esmeralda didn't mind.

She was the darkest out of her brothers, and she liked it that way.

But, she was told she looked like her mother,

and she didn't know what to think about that.

* * *

 _"You find the black tube inside her beauty case where she keeps your father's old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her. You look nothing like your mother. You look everything like your mother. Film star beauty. How to wear your mother's lipstick. You go to the bathroom to apply your mother's lipstick. Somewhere no one can find you._

 _You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face. Your mother is a woman and women like her cannot be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherit the earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his hand?_

 _Am I talking about your husband or your father?"_

* * *

Once, she had looked through her mother's things.

While her father was out, and her brothers in lessons (because girls didn't need to be taught the same things, her father told her, and she would spit on his shoe and he would hit her, back of hand to her cheek), she snuck into their room –

Or was it just his now that she was dead?

She snuck into their room and went to her vanity; top cleaned and dust resting. Unused for years. For as long as Esmeralda had been alive. Carefully, she opened the drawers.

She placed the rings on her own fingers, the rings too large of course, and her fingers too small. She noosed the necklaces around her throat. She pulled up a chair and leaned close to the mirror,

she imagined how her mother would put lipstick on, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, concentrated and she leaned as close as she possibly could to her own reflection. Carefully, smearing the colored wax in a controlled line. One single swoop on the bottom, and carefully angling on top. Redefining and then sharpening her cupid's bow.

Esmeralda stared at her own reflection; her lips shakily outlined in alarming red, the wrong tone for her skin tone, one arch significantly larger than the other.

She looked nothing like her mother.

But she didn't think that she wanted to.

* * *

 _"It's not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me."_

* * *

She kissed her first girl when she was thirteen and was promptly hurt after; her eldest brother had grabbed her hair, taking a strong hold of her scalp, and threw her into the ground. The other girl screamed and ran, but Esmeralda was glad.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" he hissed and kicked her roughly in the stomach. She doubled further and grabbed her knees, holding them to her tighter. "The fuck would happen if someone important saw you, fucking dyke!"

But someone important was always watching. Esmeralda knew this. But that was why she did it.

"Just don't fucking do it again," he snapped, spitting at her and turning (as his father taught him, to leave women weak, leave them bleeding, leave them dying).

(Leave them dead)

And as Esmeralda pushed herself up, she pulled her lower lip into her mouth and tasted blood,

and with a guttural shriek she ran at her brother and lunged.

* * *

 _"I find a girl the height of a small wail_

 _living in our spare room. She looks the way I did when I was fifteen_

 _full of pulp and pepper._

 _she spends all day up in the room_

 _measuring her thighs._

 _Her body is one long sigh._

 _You notice her in the hallway._

 _Later that night while we lay beside one another_

 _listening to her throw up in our bathroom,_

 _you tell me you want to save her._

 _Of course you do;_

 _This is what she does best:_

 _makes you sick with the need to help."_

* * *

She roughly pushed the smaller girl down, sending her tumbling down the two steps leading to the back entrance of the kitchen. Harsh green (vivid) eyes glared down, meeting wide and scared brown ones.

She tossed the already half eaten loaf of bread, stale and days old, onto the dirt next to the girl.

Esmeralda could count the girl's ribs easily, her midriff showing due to her scrap of shirt. Her pants were in no better shape, one leg torn just at mid thigh and the other only going a bit past the knee; no good for the upcoming season. The girl's face was dirty, her hands muddied and scraped, skin of her finger nails picked at. Her dark mop of hair an unkept mess, jaggedly cut.

But Esmeralda did not feel pity, for that faded at the back of her father's hand long ago.

(But she felt wrath, she felt fury, she felt flames white and hot, hearthed below her stomach; her strength was in her womanhood, where her late grandmother had taught her to keep it, to cherish it)

"You're fucking lucky I was the one who caught you," Esmeralda clipped, turning with one hand on the door. Ready to close, but leaving it open for now. "If it wasn't me, you'd be dead, bitch."

The girl simply stared at Esmeralda's figure, much healthier, voluptuous even, with prominent breasts and hips and an ass even at the young age of fifteen. And she the girl simply stared at Esmeralda, light filtering through the open door, and cascading, shadowing Esmeralda's features and making them holy.

"Don't fucking come back."

Ah, but Rashida was never good at keeping promises.

* * *

 _"We have the same lips,_

 _she and I, the kind men think about when they are with their wives._

 _She is starving._

 _You look straight at me when she tells us_

 _how her father likes to punch girls_

 _in the face._

 _I can hear you in our spare room with her._

 _What is she hungry for?_

 _What can you fill her up with?_

 _What can you do, that you would not do for me?_

 _I count my ribs before I go to sleep."_

* * *

Mariana simply sighed when she walked into the back room, stopping to jut her hip and put fingers gently to her forehead in exasperation. Esmeralda simply remained, draped across the couch and fanning herself with the many paper bills she was holding.

"At least you could give me a heads up," Mariana said, tiredly accepting the situation and hardly elbowing Esmeralda's legs in order to give herself a seat on the couch, "or at least give me my due cut."

"I needed information," Esmeralda murmured, green eyes focused on the wall opposite of her. Thinking.

"And you couldn't find another way?" Mariana murmured, cigarette in her mouth and finger flicking the lighter. She offered Esmeralda the pack, but the younger woman didn't take it. Mariana's dark eyes narrowed.

"What are you planning…?" She asked, eyeing the other woman carefully. A pause, and then Esmeralda sneered.

"I fucking hate the way he looks at me," she snapped, hand closing and crinkling the bills. Her betrothed. Her promised. Her father's newest and final way to keep her on a leash. "Like a fucking piece of meat."

Mariana stayed quiet, already knowing this. Unsurprised.

"Men will be men," the older woman said calmly.

"Men should be fucking respectful," Esmeralda spat, sitting up abruptly, "or should at least treat us like humans for Christ's sake!"

Mariana calmly blew out a stream of smoke, watching loftily as it unfurled and dissipated into the air.

"There's no controlling that, 'hun," Mariana said finally, then repeated, "men will be men. And woman will be strong. Because we have to."

To live. To survive. To make new generations. To continue.

Esmeralda knew this. But it didn't equate to acceptance.

"And I have standards," Esmeralda said, rising and walking to leave without a goodbye. Mariana didn't turn to watch her leave; she had seen Esmeralda's back too many times to be concerned. She did however hum in amusement, dropping her cigarette and putting it out with her heel as she leaned over,

taking the money that Esmeralda had left for her.

* * *

 _"To my daughter I will say_

 _'when the men come, set yourself on fire'."_

* * *

"So what's your real name, huh?" she asked him, hand caressing his face, his arm slung around her waist, fingers daintily tracing a pattern on her back. Abyssal eyes slowing drifted from her lips to her eyes, green clashing with black. He smirked; a smooth, fluid and practiced movement.

His hand shifted, moving from her waist, under her arm and above the covers their naked and bared bodies were plastered again. His fingers went to the wild curls in her hair, stroking them and then intertwining.

"Why the curiosity?" he questioned, eyes drifting to her hair instead of her curious, but vivid, vibrant, always fiery gaze.

"Fuck that," she dismissed, her curiosity dropping and aggression replacing it, "this is the tenth time we've fucked," she told him, and then grew wiser, sultry, and moved towards him, pushing herself up and then placing her knees and arms on either side of him. Above him now, she continued, leaning closer until her bare breasts were resting on his chest and her lips at his ear, skin barely touching skin.

"Besides," she murmured into his ear, so soft that even the empty room could not listen, "I want to call out your _actual_ name, and I'm sure you want to hear me scream it."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, then: hesitation. Esmeralda blinked and their positions were switched. The hitman was above her, in the place of power. But Esmeralda simply smirked and laid herself out before him, knowing that this man would do nothing but cherish her.

She was confident; but wasn't that what had drawn him to her?

But with his next words, her smirk dropped and her expression was kin to mild surprise.

"Esmeralda," he said, suddenly seriously, "if I do this… I'm serious about my relationships. You know this."

Her mouth parted slightly as she stared up at him and her hand reached out. Her dark skin stood out against his pale, and she traced her thumb under his abyssal (beautiful, beautiful) eyes and then trailed her fingers along his defined cheekbones, her thumb brushing again against his lips.

His hand gently caught and encased hers, but with enough lack to send a message:

she could leave anytime. They both knew this.

But she had something that she needed to finish (to escape).

(She had standards, after all)

"I love you," she stated suddenly, the words spurting out of her mouth, even surprising her. He blinked, amid curiosity, fascination with this woman, this fierce and fiery woman who had lured him and chased and had played this little game ( _and won and won and won_ ), and was now sprawled out before him in worship (and he worshiped back).

And he leaned forward, pressing his lips softly to her ear and whispered the word she had asked to hear,

and they kissed.

* * *

 _"When We Last Saw Your Father_

 _He was sitting in the hospital parking lot_

 _in a borrowed car, counting the windows_

 _of the building, guessing which one_

 _was glowing with his mistake."_

* * *

Esmeralda hesitated, and then put a gentle hand resting on her abdomen. She sat, legs folded on top of the old, worn table. A pregnancy test lay at her side, the dim moonlight filtering to the window of the rundown apartment (her current safe house, away from the men she both hated and loved), just enough light to distinguish as positive. Esmeralda looked down at her stomach, an unfamiliar feeling churning. Embers in her hearth gathered. And waited.

"You're my way out," she whispered to her stomach, expression blank and eyes brimming with unfamiliarity.

"You're my freedom."

* * *

 _"The nail technician pushed my cuticles back ... turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says, 'I see your daughters and their daughters.' That night in a dream, the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach. The scar heals into a smile. The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails. We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath._

 _I wake as the second girl crawls headfirst up my throat, a flower blossoming out of the hole in my face."_

* * *

She had her father's eyes,

and dark, black baby hairs scalped to her head. Darker skin than his, close to Esmeralda's, but lighter still.

She had her father's eyes. Abyssal and void. Recognizable.

Esmeralda held her daughter for the first time, born in a place that could barely be labeled as a hospital.

Ausiliatrice did not cry for very long,

( _she had her father's eyes_ )

but Esmeralda did.

* * *

 _"I have my mother's mouth and my father's eyes; on my face they are still together."_

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So after reading "Teaching my Mother How to Give Birth" by Warsan Shire, I had to write this chapter. It comes at a good time too, between arcs. And Reborn will definitely be getting a chapter like this as well ;) Most likely after the next arc. I already had most of this written, and the poems just fit perfectly. And Shire's words just resonate so great with Esmeralda and Ausil. Like it's scary. So they did perfect framing this chapter about Esmeralda._

 _In other news, I started college and I love it. So a little busy, but having fun. I also ended Life as Cloud, because I didn't have motivation to finish that one, but rest assured, I have no plans of doing the same with this one or Suicide Kid. A lot of different factors just led up to that._

 _Let me know what you guys think of this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it._

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **Guest (Chapter 10):** Here's more! Thanks for the review_

 _ **Arleria:** Aw, thanks so much for thinking that this story is deliciously awesome! Thanks so much for the incredibly kind words and the review! _

_Note: Sorry if I didn't respond to your reviews, I think fanfiction is messing up on alerting me? I go by email when I respond, and I feel like it's been almost jagged or lagged in repsonse. So let me know if you feel like I haven't responded so I don't accidentally leave you out! I love talking to you guys, seriously_

 ** _Quote 'Em:_**

 _Congrats to **Ketsueko** and **KonekoNoRenkinjutsushi** for guessing the Hamilton quote from last chapter. _

_This chapter's quote:_

 ** _"I am the dragon breathing fire, beautiful man, I'm the lion."_**

 _-Evely_


	12. Lesson 12: To Shoot

**Lesson 12:** **Her Mother Taught Her to Shoot**

* * *

 _""It's good you're happy," she said. She said the word happy as if she were looking at it from a great distance through a telescope."_

 ** _-Richard Brautigan, The Abortion_**

* * *

"I knew you were good," Dino said, leaning forward slightly, his headphones already around his neck as he viewed the targets, pristine holes displaying perfect kill shots, "but actually seeing it is another thing entirely."

She slid her own headphones to her neck, barely allowing her eyes to glance over at him.

"I don't shoot much myself, you know," and she did know, and he probably knew this, but continued, either way (something he tended to do, she noticed, and she was noticing so much about him now, probing, evaluating), "since I use my whip to fight."

She made a sharp inclination of her head. Polite acknowledgment.

He was trying to get to know her. To become personable. Which, she expected to some extent, gauging his personality easily enough from the short time they had spent together.

His posture was as causal as his smile, as his clothes, as his personality; he _exuberated_ nonchalance. There was a peculiar confidence with Dino Cavallone. His brown eyes were kind enough, but she found them too prying for her liking. He was personable, and Ausiliatrice found herself…. perhaps uncomfortable wasn't the correct word. Attacked too aggressive, and assaulted even more so. She was used to be scrutinized, to being judged, so that was out of the question.

She pursed her lips, and barely narrowed her eyes, a sudden spurt of annoyance hitting her; and she easily tossed her freshly reloaded gun to an unexpected Dino. He reeled back, fumbling with the weapon and she stepped to the side, crossing her arms.

"Let's see," she said simply, pinning him down with a blank stare. He blinked, almost doe-like, and glanced down at his occupied hands. A nervous smile, a shifting of feet, and once their headphones were placed safely, pressing softly against their ears, he raised the gun.

Three shots.

And he turned to her with a nervous grin, a faulty excuse for incompetence on the skin of his lips. But Ausiliatrice did not return the pleasantry.

She was wholesomely unimpressed with Dino Cavallone.

But there was always room for improvement.

* * *

She remained terrifying to him, and he found himself wondering if she was even human (he swears, he had not seen her eat once since she had arrived, nor does he think that she has performed any other human function; he's only somewhat positive she breathes air by seeing the light rise and fall of her chest and the bare flare of her nostrils, and even then, that was barely noticeable). But despite this terror, there was a beauty to her, wasn't there? A mystery (and isn't that was makes things beautiful? The attraction to the void and unknown).

She was quiet and remained silent a majority of the time, even with his slight prying, and continuous trying. He wanted to know more about her, especially considering that her job meant that they were in close contact for long periods of time. And Dino had no plans to spend that time in silence.

He wanted to know her, to unravel this mystery, to be introduced and be acquainted, despite this terror. He was getting used to that feeling, after all.

(He had gotten used to someone else, similarly terrifying, hadn't he?)

And Dino would consider it an accomplishment if he managed to hold even a full conversation with the mysterious woman. But first, step one, was to allow her comfort. The last thing he wanted to do was force her, and he hardly doubted that she would even let him do so, even accidentally.

And so he began watching her, only poking lightly at her cold exterior (was it cold though? Standoffish, sure, but she was not at all off-putting. She simply carried a strong, heavy sense of power that lesser men could not bear the weight of; but the Cavallone boss was no lesser man, but perhaps, not yet to her level, and perhaps, never would be. They were not the same, after all, but this was fine, this was fine).

(He was no predator, and they knew this)

He noticed things, about her.

She had, he realized, an accent. But not just one, no. With each vowel, each pronunciation, it seemed to carry a different nationality. As if she didn't grow up listening to one voice, but to many. But this change was not jagged, and these variations flowed fluidly, beautifully, and melded together to form the lullaby that was her voice.

It was an accent barely noticed, and only by native speakers primarily, but it was there, and it was present.

As always, when he spoke to her, when he asked about her, her lips would purse slightly, and her eyes would narrow, if barely.

"I traveled," she answered his curiosity simply, "as a child."

And that was all she gave on the subject.

But Dino was beginning to learn that she was just like that.

* * *

Her first degree of impressiveness she viewed from Dino Cavallone was when she had first observed him pertaining to her definition of power.

She leaned against the wall, standing to his left, Chiron – ah, no, she swiftly corrected herself – Romario on his right, and she witnessed this negotiation – no, she witnessed _Dino_ with an aggressive attentiveness; she had never seen the man like this before.

He was tilted forward with grace, his elbows leaning on the desk and lips pressed gently against his interlocked fingers, which in honesty was a normal enough form for him to take. But his aura, his demeanor, _his eyes_ , they were different. Acutely so. And she watched with tender fascination as his voice became cutting, slicing with facts, statistics and numbers, taking down the weak proposals his opponents were offering.

And the two Chinese men hesitated, then turned to each other with hushed tones, speaking in their own language –

insulting Dino, Ausiliatrice understood, picking up on the dialect immediately, somewhat fluent in the language herself

– and she found her lips tug downwards slightly, and her eyebrows furrow, just barely, having understood this. Cowards, she defined, talking in blind whispers to Dino's ears and not having the audacity to insult the man to his face. For she knew that Dino had no grasp of this language, and yet his expression did not betray this; he simply waited, patiently, _confident, confident_ , for the men to either take the carefully constructed offer or to cut off negotiations immediately.

But the way Dino had set it up, stilted in his, no the _Cavallone's_ favor, while the opposing side was blindly offered only somewhat valuable assets,

(but Dino wins, and does so easily, Ausiliatrice immediately caught on, he had been ahead before the game even started)

they had in their feeble minds that they were winning just enough to take the deal.

And for the first time since meeting him, Ausiliatrice found herself looking at the boss of Cavallone with respect for his tact. And she found herself reviewing, how Dino had been struggling to become acquainted with her, and now with her seeing this side that she found herself in slight awe of, then perhaps she could allow herself to become acquainted with this man.

It wouldn't hurt, she decided, to try to get to know the man who trained under her father.

(And she might as well, while she waited, while she waited, waited and waited).

And so, she congratulated him:

"They were talking shit," she said simply, after the men had shut the door behind them. He did a double take, and then stared, quite blatantly at her.

"What?" He asked, and she frowned, seeing that his earlier swagger had depleted the moment negotiations ended. And seeing this, she allowed herself to frown slightly (unknowingly stunning Dino further, being perhaps the second display of emotion her had seen from her yet), and she hummed lowly and walked away.

Ah, well, she considered, it was fun while it lasted.

(Perhaps he wasn't a predator; but not all animals needed to be. And if they were?)

(what a bloody world it would be)

* * *

The horse was unnerved by her, but Dino was quick to comfort it; stroking its snout softly and sweetly muttering to it. Ausiliatrice herself, understanding her own intimidation well, stood near the entrance of the stables, arms crossed and leaning causally.

"Your tutor," she started boldly, "what was he like?"

Dino looked over at her curiously, and then; a brilliant smile, chuckling slightly and shaking his head.

"Reborn, huh?" He started, and Ausiliatrice's heart seized for a moment. It was liberating almost, hearing someone else say his name. It was a confirmation that her father was not a vision, not a dream. The verbal confirmation of another voice uttering his name made her finding him feel tangible.

"God," he breathed out, paling slightly, "he's terrifying, you know? Super strong, confident, intimidating. One of the world's best, and he'll remind you of it. Constantly," Dino laughed, moving to saddle his steed, as he carried the conversation.

She frowned; the words coming from Dino only an echo of what others had told her, of what she had scrounged herself. But then, he continued:

"He kind of raised me, you know," the man said softly, slowing as he ran a hand long the smooth leather, "he came to train me after my father… yeah, well, he trained me, and basically, he taught me everything I know about being a good boss, and he went beyond that too. And I still have to improve, right? Because if I remember one thing he taught me, it's that I can always get better….I kind of miss him, actually." A serene moment, and then Dino chuckled again, a bit sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head as if nurturing an unseen bruise, "God, he would kick me for getting all sappy."

He finished prepping and placed a foot and then swung his body, calming his horse before steering it towards her.

"Want to come?" He asked, offering a hand. There was hesitation, the woman in deep, echoing thought, before her eyes slunk up to meet his.

"No."

"Ah, never ridden before?" Her glare hardened. Dino laughed, holding a hand up in surrender. "Fine, fine, but if you change your mind," he said, snapping the reins lightly, "I'll be around!"

She turned her head, watching as he galloped off, the men nearby waving and chuckling and yelling after him. And she soon followed, keeping an eye on him as he trotted the estate, despite his men being around and Dino always being in sight, because it was her job to follow him now, wasn't it? To keep him in sight, and to adhere to her definition of safety. And she realized suddenly, watching as he almost exhibits the same elegance as he does when negotiating while in control of the proud animal; she realized that she was distracting herself. She titled her head, and her lips parted slightly, her eyebrows drawn in mute distress of the situation, her hand tracing over her hip and to where it was above her gut, and she clutched it;

Was this pain, she was feeling?

Jealousy?

 _"He kind of raised me, you know"_

And those words echoed uncomfortably in the recess of her mind, and Ausiliatrice mulled over them, upset with the complicity those words brought.

What was the extent of their relationship? Just how close were her father and this stranger? Although, her father was a stranger too, even more so than Dino was to her at this point. Again, she questioned her want, her _need_ to find her father, but what meaning to her life was there if she gave up on this mission?

She had skill, she had power, she had everything well within reach.

But she had nothing, all at once. A void at her finger tips, but what was a void without someone to share it with? Who was she to fill this void with, to makes stars and constellations with if not for her last remaining flesh and blood?

(if not with Mateus, who was already a firmly placed constellation, the only bright lights in her otherwise empty void because her mother was no star, she was hot flames and embers, resting and churning within Ausiliatrice's pelvis; because her mother was not part of this void but a part of _Ausiliatrice_ , because blood is not easily drained dry from flesh)

Did she hate Dino for having this relationship, one that the child in her had imagined her entire life? Did she feel resent for this man who knew her father personally when she had yet to even see the man who cursed her with his genes, his features, _his eyes_?

No.

Because she can only hate Dino for this when she had her own relationship with her father to compare; she can only hate Dino after knowing whether or not her father would accept her for what she is, determine if she was good enough to lay claim to his blood.

Until then?

(it was a curse, to be good at waiting)

* * *

"They respect him," Ausiliatrice murmured, low enough to where it was drowned by the exuberant sounds of those around them, but low enough to where the man beside her could hear.

"Do you?" Romario asked, nursing his own drink while waiting for the woman to answer.

"At times," she answered truthfully. "He's strange." Romario huffed.

"Tell me about it," he said with lingering amusement, watching as Dino sighed, leaning back dramatically with defeat while playing his defeated hand across the table before him. The men around him cheered, others whopping and yelling and taunting, noticing the defeat of their boss (a defeat, Ausiliatrice knew, that was handed to them generously, their boss too good with numbers not to win such a simple game. The emperor wears no clothes, indeed, indeed). The family was happy.

Romario and Ausiliatrice stood to the side of the room, separated but not distinctly so. The two were entranced in their own comradeship, as they had revolved around the other since the woman's arrival.

Once a hero, after all, and this was their tether.

Ausiliatrice found herself almost enjoying the man's quaint companionship, or at least, he was not bothersome to her. Mariana, she realized, was who he reminded her of. And this familiarity amused her, and here they were now, standing in close proximity and murmuring softly to their drinks, almost casting the illusion that the two weren't even engaging in conversation.

A relationship that Ausiliatrice could allow.

And perhaps it was for droll amusement, perhaps with was because of the previous statement, because the familiarity, of perhaps she was just tired (tired, tired, tired, and bored because she was always the one who waits),

or maybe it was the slight buzz of alcohol,

but she opened her mouth and spoke the truth to the man.

And he looked over at her, repressed surprise and curiosity,

and a strong and instant understanding, because _'ah, now it all made sense'_ , and he could hardly believe he had not connected it before because it's _'the eyes, the eyes, always the eyes'._

"Does Boss know?" She sent him a look, and he nodded apologetically. "Of course not, excuse my haste." A moment passed, comfortably with Ausiliatrice, and tangibly with Romario. He spoke again:

"How long have you been searching?"

"… wrong question," she muttered, her eyes drifting back to Dino, watching him once again interacting with his men.

(and there was a sudden pain, in her chest, she pin pointed, seeing them act this way, comfortable, a _family_. And she was a lioness again, on the savanna then, on the savanna now, a predator always)

And although Romario was put off, he continued as if his question had been answered, having become familiar with the woman's strange way of speaking in her time here.

"And I suppose you came here to try to meet him?" She didn't have to answer to confirm; it was too obvious of a question for her to even acknowledge. Romario's mind raced, considering, thinking, still in awe of this realization and berating himself for not realizing it sooner, and also feeling the strong need to help –

and he quickly decided to not tell her of the phone call Dino just received, contents of which entailing he was instructed to visit Japan; no, not just yet, he didn't want to tell her this now when she had just revealed this to him, and shatter this already delicate moment with such a revelation

– because from her short answers, from him gauging her personality, he deduced that the woman standing beside him (Reborn's daughter, of all people, that man's _daughter_ ) would appreciate discretion, and wanted this meeting to occur naturally (and he questioned, briefly wondered, what her standing on fate was if it had taken this long), and instead strove to conclude this conversation with one last inquiry:

"May I ask you something? What will you do when you meet him?"

And she couldn't fathom an answer.

* * *

 _"The sun has grown so very, very old. How long, cold, fading death? How long?"_

 _- **Welcome to Night Vale**_

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I enjoyed writing this, particularly because we're able to see Ausil through someone else's eyes, and get to see how harsh she can be. Which is fun to write, and I just love how Ausiliatrice talks, because in her mind, she's very clear and states her intentions plainly, but to other's it makes no sense simply because she doesn't waste the time to explain herself. So yeah, fun stuff._

 _So I ended Life as Cloud (kind of?) and I'm tying loose ends now, so between collage stuff and life stuff, I'll try to work on this and Suicide Kid more. I cannot wait for the next chapter, because we all know what's going down~_

 _and legit going down, like it's happening, legit happening. Next chapter. As in the next time I update._

 _Lmao. You guys are going to die._

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **Guest (Chapter 11):** Glad you liked the flow of the chapter and I'm glad that it made your day! I had a lot of fun arranging the chapter, so I'm glad you appreciated it. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Memlu:** Aw, thanks for considering it to be one of the best! I should probably actually look into more reborn-daughter fics, since the concept interests me if done right, so let me know of any good ones! And don't worry, I'll try my best to update this story. It's therapeutic to write this and Suicide Kid. Thanks for the review!_

 _New Arc, so new reader/author interaction (also because I'm running out of recognizable quotes, and I don't want to put up obscure ones)_

 ** _Question:_**

 ** _Is there a song you know that reminds you or either Ausiliatrice of any other Reborn! character?_**

 _So, as I've mentioned before, "Wait for It" embodies Ausiliatrice a lot, but since she's transitioning more into action, the song "Glitter and Gold" by Barns Courtney is starting to become a lot more fitting for her. I would seriously give it a listen._

 _As for other characters, when I first heard "Emperor's New Clothes" by Panic! at the Disco, I immediately thought of Xanxus. No joke._

 ** _Thanks for all the lovely reviews, follows, and favorites!_**

 _-Evenly_


	13. Lesson 13: To Apologize Part 1

**Lesson 13: Her Mother Taught Her to Apologize Part 1**

* * *

 _"'Am I in love? –Yes, since I'm waiting.' The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely: I am the one who waits."_

 ** _-Roland Barthes_**

* * *

She had never liked visiting Northeast Asia. Although she found comfort in travel, she tended to dislike that specific region the most. It wasn't a matter of language, or culture, or anything of that sense. But she found that the further Northeast she went, the less people of her color there were. And the more stares she received because of this.

Her beauty was almost heightened, she was _ethereal_ , _exotic_ in these unfamiliar places. Chastised and reverenced for her skin all in one look. Often, she could ignore the blatant stares and eyes following her, because this was normal, this was normal, people looking at her with fear and with awe. But when they stared specifically because of her skin, because of her hair, because of her lips,

because of what she received from her mother?

She was used to hating her father's genes, her eyes, her eyes _, those damned eyes_. But she had loved her mother's skin, she had loved her mother's lips, her mother's textured hair, and had only wished she had skin as dark.

And a part of her wished, wanted strangers to appreciate this and see her mother's blood as nothing but beautiful, and when they did nothing but stare blatantly, not accepting what was different from their own?

And so, she did her best to avoid much of Northeast Asia. That being said, she had never visited Japan.

And so when Romario informed her of their trip to Japan to meet the upcoming boss of the Vongola,

to visit her _father_ ,

Instead of elevation or excitement Ausiliatrice felt the cavity in her chest fill with distaste and disappointment with herself for allowing a few uncomfortable experiences to get in her way. She turned on her heel, and left Romario instantly, allowing him to wallow in his own stupor derived from her actions,

because she had only two days to learn Japanese, and _God dammit_ if she was going to look like a fool in front of her father.

* * *

Dino, in fact, was the one who made a fool out of himself.

Naturally, Ausiliatrice still had a job to do; and so she convinced Dino to do his work in the library with her as she learned Japanese (the definition of _convinced_ here being that Ausiliatrice told Dino that they would be stationed in the library today and Dino was wise enough to adhere to her demand).

Despite her annoyance, the root of which extended form her need to appear – appear as what?

Was she worried about disappointing a man she had never met? If not, then why spend this time learning a new language instead of speaking to him in their own tongue? Was it a dire need for acceptance? Particularly, his? To appear competent in his eyes despite her many past achievements and already renowned strength? Ausiliatrice didn't know and spent no time dwelling on this thought,

and she let it pass.

Ausiliatrice distinctly remembered first seeing the library, and distinctly remembering, recalling, knowing, that she had never seen so many books, so well kept in all her life. And so this place grew familiar to her soon enough, and she often spent her precious time off in this dwelling, taking in new information as always, letting the impossible amount of information absorb via eyes scanning pages.

And Dino too, she noticed, seemed to be at ease as well. And it was calm, with the two sharing the silence, speaking not even a word, and breath only;

that is, until Dino had to rise to retrieve another book.

Romario had left his boss's side long ago to arrange details of their upcoming trip, and other family members remained occupied as well, leaving the two young adults alone in the vast library. Ausiliatrice only vaguely noted Dino rise with a large book and softly pad across the carpet to return it and pick out another,

but as he reached up to return the book to its home while whisking another out of the arms of the shelves, he leaned just a little too much while straining his body upwards into order to reach the shelf,

and fell forward, arms immediately going to grab the large bookshelf,

in which then he happened to lean back, only after securing a strong grip on the shelves with his fingertips,

and Ausiliatrice could only sit and watch with vague interest and _almost_ disbelief as the entire shelf come down on top of the Cavallone boss, who let out a very undignified squeak before being completely covered and possibly flattened.

She blinked, and stared, a strange, unfamiliar, but not entirely uncomfortable feeling bubbling in her chest. And as she watched the boss pathetically push his way out from underneath the shelf and out of the rubble of books his own clumsiness had caused,

Ausiliatrice choked out a small bark of laughter.

Dino looked over at her, nearly scandalized, but his features changed when she immediately covered her mouth with her hand, the noise being entirely unexpected and _uncontrolled_ on her part.

And he opened his mouth, perhaps an attempt to exhibit charm, to express wit or humor to smooth the ordeal over, or perhaps deliver a faulty excuse,

but she left, shutting her book and rising elegantly, leaving her charge in the rubble of knowledge and his own confusion.

* * *

Dino had stumbled for an excuse the next time they had met; something along the lines of the shelf being unstable. He had said nothing about her own small embarrassment, and she once again harbored that small spark of respect for the man.

Romario had enlightened Ausiliatrice on the true reason for the mishap:

"Ah," he breathed out with a small chuckle, "so he finally slipped up in front of you, huh?" She hummed lowly, watching the boss himself finish last minute details with the staff and those of his men that they were leaving behind. He took her lack of answer as so, and continued.

"Boss tends to become rather… _unbalanced_ , without us around," he admitted almost sheepishly, "I suppose you only just now witnessed it because you haven't been around him much without us. He isn't aware of this himself, you see," Romario concluded, "and often, he thinks that his clumsiness is because of something else entirely." Ausiliatrice barely narrowed her eyes, watching as Dino heartily laughed, clapping the shoulder of the man he was speaking to.

"That's ridiculous," she stated. Romario chuckled, and then sobered, hesitating, then nodding his head almost solemnly.

"That, it is."

* * *

To say Ausiliatrice was antsy while on the plane, traveling to meet her father ( _Reborn_ ), would be a lie.

Ausiliatrice did not get _antsy_. She did not get _apprehensive_. She did not get _nervous_.

She waited. As she does, as she always, always does. But as she waited, she couldn't help but feel lack of breath, build up in her chest, a seizing of her heart, and the pumping of her blood quiver and quicken. All while her physical persona remained a picture of placidity. Because Ausiliatrice _did not_ get apprehension.

But oh, was she.

(she was, she was, she was)

As a child, after her mother had left her, she often divulged in fantasy's of this situation:

Often, her younger self would run into the arms of a tall man, and he would pick her up gladly, and they would smile and laugh, and he would apologize.

And then, another scenario, her younger self would yell and berate him for not going after her mother, for not being there for all those years, for not looking into Esmeralda's disappearance, for not raising her as a father should. And he would smile softly and take her words and apologize.

And then, she would imagine herself running into his arms crying, missing her mother, and missing the father that she never had and could never possibly imagine. And he would cry too and apologize.

Childish dreams, she knew now. Naivety had fled like a frightened animal long ago, and she now knew to not hold expectations about this. As a child, she had always pictured her father apologizing to her, apologizing to her mother, always _apologizing, apologizing_. But she knew now that she had no right to demand this of him. But neither did she have a right to seek him out, as she was doing now.

But younger Ausiliatrice deserved an apology. Older Ausiliatrice knew it was foolish to expect one.

And so here she sat, expecting everything and nothing all at once from a man who she had never met, and perhaps didn't even know she existed.

(She had her doubts, however, about that)

"You know it's okay to show emotion, right?"

Her eyes snapped beside her, to Dino. He gave a charming smile. She did not return it. "The other day," he answered the question in her look, "you laughed. And then you left, because you got embar-"

"I did _not_ ," she corrected icily, "get embarrassed." He nodded quickly and leaned back, putting his hands up.

"Right, of course," he agreed, "not embarrassed… but still. Is showing emotions that much of a weakness to you?" She considered his question, and then shifted, once again looking out the window of the plane. She considered, and then answered:

"No," she agreed, "but it is an advantage. One that I will not risk again."

And that was the end of it.

* * *

They arrived in Japan.

As soon as they stepped off the plane, and began to make their way to the residence of the soon-to-be Tenth,

(to her Father, to Reborn)

Ausiliatrice carefully slipped a pair of dark, extremely tinted sunglasses onto her face. Romario glanced and did not look again, understanding instantly. Dino gave query, but after a stern turn of her head (he didn't even have to see her eyes to _know_ ) he made a quick mutter and nod of his head and decided not to question his bodyguard further. It was never wise to do so in the first place, he had learned with ease.

In the two days since starting, Ausiliatrice did not become completely fluent in Japanese, but this was expected. But she could listen. And she could learn, and she did this as they moved through the small town, and perhaps this was a distraction, and yet it did little to actually help her peculiar mood form becoming obvious to those around her;

a lioness listening to the small talk of humans while pacing with a bloodied jowl was always noticeable, if not a blatant sign of danger.

Which is why she reacted, and reacted _violently_ , when Dino placed his hand on her shoulder. Which is why he ended up wincing and with a bruised wrist before she released him.

"Sorry," he said, then repeated, "sorry, I know, I shouldn't have touched you. But you're worried about Reborn, right?"

She remained rigid, not even paring a glance at Romario to pair physical cues to her suspicion. And then, that suspicion was dismissed with Dino's next words.

"I know that he's the world's greatest hitman, but there's no need to worry," he continued before she could correct him (because she wasn't _worried_ , she didn't _worry_ ), "but there's no need for that. He's completely safe…." he trailed off and placed, as if reliving memories, and then corrected himself, "well, as long as we don't make him mad. Then," he hesitated, his hand moving to pat her shoulder, but wisely retracted to straighten his jacket, "we should have nothing to worry about, right?"

Nothing to worry about.

Ausiliatrice wished with dread that his statement was true.

(And yet, it was a cleverly spun lie of a snake, and the only question was who was Eve and who was Adam, and who the fuck is playing God)

* * *

It was times like these, where she missed Mateus the most; times where silence did not solve problems, times where a smile would open doors, and open people, and would get you what you wanted. And he was good, she remembered fondly, at doing those things, at prying people open with a flash of teeth,

not in the way that she would, not in the manner of a predator, (tearing the neck open with sharpened teeth from gnashing against bone repeatedly, and sooting the jowl with blood and wearing it proudly as if it were tribal marks, telling of history and family and victory in battle, and of _survival, survival, survival,_ because what other need would she have for an open carcass than to further her own life and the lives of those she loved; what use did she have of quickly fading flesh if not to feed to mouths of those she needed to hear speak again?) but in the manner of humanity, the thing in which she was lacking. But that was why he completed her, wasn't it? He was her humanity, and without him?

Reborn was there to greet them, at the front of the house.

Her _father_ , was there, waiting for them.

And Ausiliatrice recalled all of her childhood, the visions of this moment, where she would run into the arms of an unfamiliar man and instantly feel bonds of blood, because that's how it was supposed to work, wasn't it?

Reborn was a child. A _baby_. And yet, she knew, she _fucking knew_ that it was him, and not because of Dino greeting his tutor warmly;

he had her eyes.

For the first time in her life, she found her own eyes staring back at her without the disillusion of a mirror. And it hit her, she understood immediately why those around her noticed her eyes first, and she understand just how abyssal they truly were, she knew the extent of how unnerving and haunting and unnatural they appeared to be,

(and a small part of herself was conflicted over whether to hate them or love them more than ever before)

but seeing her own eyes, seeing his at such a lower level, looking _up_ at her? A feeling, beyond the extent of coldness seized her, and struck her entirely and muted the world around her, the words exchanged between the men around her, between Dino his tutor, between her charge and her _father_ ,

because there was absolutely no fucking doubt that this was Reborn, the Reborn standing in front of her,

but how, but how, how in the _fucking_ world was this possible? Illusions were out, Ausiliatrice's sight too sharp and cutting, and she wondered, enflamed, just what the _fuck_ the curse was, because that had to be it, didn't it?

And she made a sharp note to have a talk with Shamal the next time he popped up, if she didn't get the information out of Reborn-

 _Oh God_ , her father, who was standing in front of her and looking at her now with her own eyes

(but they were his eyes first, weren't they? And she found it funny that she kept reversing in her references to them, almost as if she considered to have ownership over them now). And he spoke in Italian, and his voice was just as she guessed, a _child's_ :

"You must be Dino's new bodyguard. Atalanta?"

This, she thought, is what the throat of a snake must feel like; tensed and constricted, suffocating any sentence and digesting long before it could reach her cords.

And she simply and curtly nodded in response, her face cool stone.

But magma was still building behind it, but Ausiliatrice was feeling now that it would sulter then cool and settle until she felt nothing at all, and she soon found herself leaning on the wall, on Dino's left, as always, still looking at Reborn (her father, her father) now in the Decimo's room and waiting for his arrival. She had remained utterly silent throughout this exchange so far, even when brushing through meeting Nana Sawada, only nodding when appropriate, doing as expected of her and only that.

And she felt a hopeless sense of emptiness; only because she didn't know how to feel about this situation. It was peculiarly, extremely so. But she was still planning, and thinking despite this nothingness.

"I am interested in speaking to you, Atalanta," Reborn addressed her, causing her throat to constrict once more. But in exterior, she simply hummed in acknowledgment. "And I look forward," ah, there was a glint, and a spark of dazed amusement went through her because Dino nearly shuddered, and he had the same reaction to her when her eyes glinted in the same manner, to the point, to the point, to the point ( _damn genetics_ ), "to learning more about you, being as elusive as you are."

And in that moment, she snorted, not being able to repress it:

"A reflection of you exactly."

And the hitman hesitated, barely, Ausiliatrice only barely catching it,

( _and he slipped, he slipped_ , she noticed, _he slipped_ )

and looked to want to pursue this topic, to endear this banter, because now there was a challenge and acceptance of that challenge, but they were dutifully interrupted –

the Decimo had arrived.

* * *

She was drastically avoiding thinking of her father (sitting so close to her and within reach but evermore so far away from her all at once), but Ausiliatrice considered the Tenth in detail:

Tsunayoshi Sawada was a small child. Although, considering Ausiliatrice's height and the aide of heels the typically wore, she was taller than most. He was meek, and small, and nervous. And he, naturally, only glanced at her fearfully once before making a point to not look in her direction again; _smart_. He had, at least, a good sense of danger, a good gauge of power, or at the most, recognized those who were stronger than him. But at this point, that was practically anyone he met.

Despite this weak label she had placed on him, there was something peculiar, something off, about Tsunayoshi. For an odd reason that seemed to fit perfectly;

he reminded her of the cubs she fondly watched while on the savanna. Meek and weak, but with potentially to grow a mane. Cute. But still, a cub needed protection. And Ausiliatrice surprised herself, feeling this small need to protect Tsunayoshi.

And then, ah, it clicked suddenly:

 _"Flames of the Sky," Hera had explained, "there has been recent developments in this research. And I'm telling you, Atalanta, because you have a strong sense of flames; a strong sense of will, do you not?"_

 _And Ausiliatrice, finding that she could not and clearly did not want to argue, allowed the woman to continue._

 _"There are seven types, and typically one person has one type of flame; but, recently there has been discoveries of a single person having multiple types of flames. Theories have suggested that this is either because one of their parents was a sky, and if they do not have sky flames themselves they are more likely to have multiple types."_

 _"And another?" Ausiliatrice prompted. Hera smiled, sultrily, and leaned forward further._

 _"If both parents had incredibly strong flames, then their offspring is more likely to have both; a rarer case, but still very possible."_

 _"Sky flames," Ausiliatrice moved on, taking note of this and storing it, "explain those."_

 _"Leaders, simply put. Those that inspire others. The Sky is the harmony that keeps the other flames quelled," and Ausiliatrice frowned at this, disagreeing with this idea, but the older woman continued, "often, strong skies will build families and gather other flames. I myself," she gestured, "am a sky. An awakened one at that," she added, clearly proud. She lingered and then frowned, "but with that comes… sacrifice, if you will. Skies seek harmony, and therefore seek other flames. But when they encounter flames of another type that are incredibly strong, and yet reject that harmony… it's abrasive, to put it lightly. It's almost jarring, having another flames reject your own so violently, but," Hera said, as if shaking this pain away, "we move on to others, as usual, but you, Atalanta-"_

 _"Rejected you, I'm aware," she stated plainly, almost causing the other woman to wince. Instead, Hera smirked, almost coldly._

 _"Ah, so you did feel it when it first happened." And Ausiliatrice's nearly deadpan expression answered easily enough. "Yes, it seems as if I am not a strong enough sky for you, which wasn't surprising; I am a far cry from an absolute pure sky."_

 _Ausiliatrice raised an elegant eyebrow in question._

 _"Pure skies…' Hera began, nearly fading off herself, as if thinking of someone in particular, "they undoubtedly draw others in. Their harmony is unbelievably strong; strong enough for even incredibly abrasive and stubborn flames like yours to submit to," and Ausiliatrice nearly winced at her wording, disliking it entirely, "they encase others with harmony and content and lead with ease. You know, well Atalanta."_

 _And suddenly, Ausiliatrice did, all at once, and despite this, she voiced the questioned, once lingering hesitantly on her lips, and thrust it into the air between them. And when it was vocalized, it wasn't even a question anymore, being shed of it's thin lining._

 _"Why are you telling me this."_

 _"Because," Hera answered, almost a sad sigh, sad but calculating, as if watching a chess piece fall form the board,_

 _(a king)_

 _"I believe that Mateus was your sky."_

And suddenly, the memory shattered and the conversation (and his face, smiling, teeth flashing) faded, and she was once again looking at Tsunayoshi, sitting and slightly squirming across from the table from her:

He was a pure, absolute sky, she recognized. But repressed, she noted with a slight frown. Held back. And Ausiliatrice didn't like that.

"Ausiliatrice," Nana Sawada called form her position, sitting, "don't you want to take off your sunglasses?"

"Migraine," she answered immediately with slow but controlled Japanese, easily returning from her thoughts, "I'm apologize." But the woman chippered and shook her head with compassion.

"Oh, of course," she said at a lower volume, "if you'd like, you can lay down in the spare room."

"I'm fine," Ausiliatrice answered, nodding politely, "but thank you for your consideration of my condition."

"So polite!" Nana cooed, clapping her hands gently together and titling her head, and Ausiliatrice found her curious, and found her interesting as well

because this is what mothers are supposed to be, aren't they? And she made a note to observe Nana Sawada more as the woman continued with this quaint small talk:

"How long have you two been dating then, Dino?"

And Ausiliatrice would admit, with addition to the mess Dino had already made due to the lack of his men, it was rather amusing to see Dino sputter in shock at the assumption,nearly choking on his food;

She only, really, had to step in if his life was _truly_ in danger, after all.

* * *

"You want to talk now?" Ausiliatrice asked, standing across and leaning on the wall across from the kitchen. The light spilled from the doorway, illuminating her features in a ghastly white wash, and yet, even then, her skin remained warm and thrumming with energy; no, with danger, Reborn corrected as he stopped his walk towards her. With intent.

The wreckage trickling from the bathroom was barely visible as well, but the exciting events form early (events in which Ausiliatrice blandly watched and made no move to help with, because as long as her charge wasn't actually in danger of dying, she wouldn't lower herself to such trivial standards), were well faded from both their minds.

It was night now, and the others were asleep. But as the sheep sleep, the wolves prowl, and so the two made their way out of the house, to stand in the street before it. Atalanta, he noticed, kept her sunglasses on her face, the shiny surface shielding her eyes from his, glinting, in the full moonlight.

Luminescent, enough for a revelation.

Ausiliatrice had always been a woman of few words, and well, they both knew where the trait originated from; in a single elegant movement, she raised her hand and separated the sun glasses from her face, as if lifting a carefully constructed veil

(and it was in many ways, something that covers, that separates, that screens, so easily thrown to the side and made naked)

and Reborn found his own eyes staring down at him; but he had been well aware of what was hidden.

"My name is Ausiliatrice," she said plainly, not bothering to even attempt to derive emotion into her words, "and I'm your daughter."

and in response, the hitman, the world's best, _Reborn_ , simply dipped his hat to where it shadowed his own eyes, and responded:

"I know."

* * *

 _"It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for."_

 **-Marvel Proust (In Search of Lost Time)**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _That first excerpt was inspired by a good friend of mine, who had a similar experience traveling. It was very Ausil-like, and fit very well for giving a reason for Ausil not to be fluent in Japanese._

 _Ausil, babe, Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend. And so the two finally meet! Yay! Happy times!_

 _Sorry that the chapters have been shorter lately, but I've been hella busy and I want to update somewhat regularly, and I enjoy writing this, so I usually try to get it out on the weekends. College is fun, but I'm dying from lack of sleep because I'm getting invited to a bunch of stuff, and don't say no because I want to have fun. But also, sleep is important. Oh well. But this is also the reason why I'm splitting this into two parts, so I can get content to you faster while still focusing on quality._

 _So let me know that you think and thanks for all the lovely reviews!_

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **Guest:** Thanks so much for reviewing again, if you have reviewed before, ahah. I'm so honored by your words, really, thanks so much for everything. Thanks so much for the love and the review! It really means a lot that you said all that stuff_

 ** _Question:_**

 ** _Are you a coffee or tea person? Or some other drink person?_**

 _I like both, but I'm definitely more of a coffee person. I am constantly criticized by my friends and loved ones for the amount I drink. Hmph._

 _-Evenly_


	14. Lesson 14: To Make Small Talk

**Lesson 14: Her Mother Taught Her to Make Small Talk**

* * *

 _"I cannot stand small talk, because I feel like there's an elephant standing in the room shitting all over everything and nobody is saying anything. I'm just dying to say, 'Hey, do you ever feel like jumping off a bridge?' or 'Do you feel an emptiness inside your chest at night that is going to swallow you?' But you can't say that at a cocktail party."_

 ** _― Paul Gilmartin_**

* * *

"U-unbelievable…" the future Decimo muttered, finding Dino, sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. Again, Tsuna noted, recalling a similar incident happening the previous night. The extent of the other boss's clumsiness truly knew no bounds.

"You better not be dead."

Tsuna stiffened immediately, those words being the only indication that the woman was standing beside him. His head nearly swiveled and he shot back, seeing how close the woman was to him. With one arm raised, she leaned on the wall, looking down almost distastefully at her charge. A sliver of a scowl tugged at her lips, but somehow, Tsuna recognized it more as annoyance, an inconvenience, than actual anger (he would _hate_ , he decided, to see this woman angry).

Her long hair, thick, voluminous, curls upon curls upon curls, fell and spilled over her shoulders. She, Tsuna noticed, seemed to be already dressed for the day, in simple, yet elegant fashion; did she really need to be wearing wedges? She was already tall enough, easily towering over Tsuna, easily towering over others, being a little bit taller than even Dino. She was one of those unfair people that didn't need makeup, that always looked put together. But she was also one of those people that put off an incredibly intense and terrifying aura (but not malevolent, something in Tsuna noted; pure intentions, it told him, a strong will). Even so early in the morning, she looked immaculate, as he had noted she looked when he first saw her, but now, he noticed suddenly –

her eyes were uncovered. And for a moment, he was lost in the abyss of them, entranced and _terrified_ without her even having to pin him down or even glance over at him, and for a moment, vague recognition flat lined him –

But Tsuna suddenly realized that, yes, it was morning, and yes, not a speck looked out of place on Ausiliatrice despite it being early, and because of this observation, Tsuna suddenly realized that, yes, he was going to be late for school.

(he did not want to die by Hibari's hands, or rather, be beaten to a bloody pulp by his tonfas; he would prefer to stay in one piece and alive, thank you very much)

And so his attention moved on from observing Ausiliatrice and he stumbled down the stairs, miraculously jumping over Dino in order to sprint out the door.

Ausiliatrice sighed, hearing a squawk from Tsuna upon seeing all of Dino's men outside. She approached the boss himself, who remained on the floor, groaning loudly. Gracefully, she leaned down at tugged him upwards, hand gripping the back of his shirt. He managed to steady himself as she put him on his feet, muttering some half-assed excuse.

"Your men are waiting," she said simply, brushing him off and making her way to the kitchen. Dino recovered, dusting himself off and thanking her, but hesitated before going out the front door, stalling to look after her:

Something was different about her, right?

But he was pulled away from these thoughts as his men called him, seeing him in the doorway he was so vacantly holding open while in thought. And so Dino smiled brightly and returned to his family, happy.

Ausiliatrice entered the kitchen. She made a point to allow Nana to notice her enter, making her presence tangible in a nonthreatening sense. And in response the civilian smiled fondly, and turned towards Ausiliatrice, humming a small and happy good morning while finishing dry the mug in her hand before setting it gently down.

Ah, yes, _gentle_ ; this was how she would describe Nana Sawada. Kind, accepting, most likely of too much. A mother; but ah, what was the definition of a mother? Surely, different to Tsunayoshi than to Ausiliatrice. Nana was what a mother was supposed to be, she figured, her mind musing while her conversation with Nana ran as a background noise.

But then what was the definition of Father? And with this thought, Ausiliatrice sombered, if only slightly.

"Ah, Bianchi hasn't come back yet…" Nana tutted, the thought arising in the midst of their small talk (play for Ausiliatrice, a mediocre distraction from what she truly wanted to think about, needed to think about, to let settle in), "she usually helps me with the kids and groceries," Nana explain slightly, waving her hand mildly in the air in response to the question in Ausiliatrice's look.

"Would you mind helping, Ausiliatrice?" Nana asked kindly, almost shyly, her hands clasping together and then her finger twisting her wedding ring slightly –

and again, Ausiliatrice wondered about fathers, about Tsuna's, and then went to hers (and she nearly winced, nearly smiled, nearly laughed, not knowing how to feel about their talk, their discussion, because that's what it was, wasn't it? Because nothing was actually solved, nothing was accomplished and both were sitting in stale mates, in corners, the worst place to trap beasts, to limit predators and give them nowhere to go) –

"Since there are so many people at the house," Nana continued, and Ausiliatrice slyly looked up from checking her phone (Dino would be fine, despite his tattling about fighting the Yakuza; he was with Reborn after all, he'd be fine, he'd be fine), "I'll need help carrying things back. Oh, and of course, with the kids too. They can be such a handful," Nana added lightly, giggling a bit at the thought.

"Of course," Ausiliatrice answered back, controlled, slow Japanese, concentration with each pronunciation. She thought back to the other night, seeing the kids for the first time; the Bovino child was zealous, of course, but the other, the small Chinese girl, Ausiliatrice found endearing from the tiny sampling of the girl's personality she had witnessed. And she allowed a wince of a smile, and spoke the truth with a twinge of sadness:

(thinking of mothers, thinking of fathers, and her hand going to rest a little below her stomach)

"I love children."

* * *

There was another predator in Namimori.

Hibari Kyoya stopped suddenly, causing those around him to give an even wider birth; Demon of Namimori, indeed, and the townspeople knew not to bother him and respect his dislike of crowds. He was annoyed already, having to get a few groceries himself when his subordinates failed in certain aspects (and were punished, accordingly), and getting a late start on his patrols as consequence; but excited, _bloodlust_ , filled him suddenly upon catching a whiff of power.

And he turned abruptly, only just having noticed it in passing, because it was subdued, wasn't it? Not held back exactly, but quelled. And yet, and yet, and yet, it was still there and alarmingly present. Hibari was keen on this, after all, not many of these types wandering into Namimori often; at least, not until that baby showed up. And well, his arrival just made things more exciting (his arrival brought more meat for him to tear into and rip apart).

And so when he backtracked and discovered that the source of this power was accompanied by Nana Sawada, the small animal's mother, Hibari was not surprised in the slightest, and his intent only grew; because that meant that this person, this carnivore, obviously, obviously –

he knew by the way she carried herself, by the way she stood by Nana Sawada, guarding her keenly, pivoted in a way that was keen to protect, keen to attack if necessary; even holding a child in her arms, Hibari recognized her as dangerous, watching as her eyes ( _those eyes_ ), sharp and cutting, and aware of every single detail around her. And oh, she had noticed him, and he allowed her, sending his message loudly and clearly:

a challenge. Because she obviously knew the baby, and she was obviously strong and Hibari hadn't had a challenge for a long time and found that his tonfas were already in his hands, but he remained still, keeping his distance for one reason only; she met his eyes and a message was passed almost violently through the air.

 _Patience_.

But Hibari was never good at patience, and yet he understood that here, in the crowded market place with herbivores milling about, here was not the proper place to battle. Her look told him to wait, and although he felt a sharp spark of irritation at this command, he remained rooted and only followed at a distance.

For this predator, for this very possible carnivore? He could wait, if for a small amount of time.

She had promised, after all, he noted, with her eyes, and he was going to hold her to it.

* * *

Ausiliatrice found herself amused; this _child_ wanted to fight her. It was endearing really, and she found his animosity adorable. But for now, she decided, he could wait.

She had to finish helping Nana first. It proved, Ausiliatrice noted, a good opportunity to observe the woman more, to get to know her. Nana Sawada was a rather reflective woman. In other words, she was not as arid as she made herself appear. She was cunning in a docile way, Ausiliatrice noted, watching as the woman sweetly bargained for an incredibly low price, and easily won the deal. She was fully aware of her surroundings and what was happening, but distinctly chose to remain oblivious; or perhaps, Ausiliatrice corrected, Nana Sawada chose not to react. She had a habit when nervous, even just a twinge, of her hand going to wring her wedding band.

There was a numb, pain almost to this air Nana put out, and Ausiliatrice guessed that it had to do with her absent husband; but that was none of Ausiliatrice's business. And so she moved on.

The Bovino child, Lambo, proved to be just as annoying as Ausiliatrice predicted. But with a few stern glares, and the confiscation of _most_ of his weapons (no surprise there, she was well aware that the Bovino Family specialized in weapons, so it was only logical that the brat had a seemingly endless amount). He was much more docile, she noticed, around Nana. Attached and bonded, it seemed, which gave Ausiliatrice a warm flutter and the barest trace of a smile on her lips. It was sweet really.

As was Ipin, who was a quiet and quaint girl. Shy. She grew excited however, when she realized that Ausiliatrice spoke Mandarin. Ausiliatrice was slightly startled, but allowed Ipin to cling to her leg, and eventually settled with holding the small girl in her arms, slowly murmuring and pointing out object to the Chinese girl in Japanese as Nana quelled Lambo and continued shopping.

Of course, she noticed the boy immediately, as soon as he passed and promptly back tracked to find her. It wasn't as if she had hid her presence, after all. However, she wasn't displaying it either, meaning that he had to be somewhat experienced if he picked up on it so easily. And so when he clearly sent out his intent, to the point that it made civilians around her notice and became uncomfortable, even without picking up on what exactly penetrated and promptly tore through the once peaceful air of the market,

she sent a single, almost amused look his way with clear instructions; at which, he nearly bristled. Obviously, she guessed, he was not keen on being told what to do. Birds of a feather, she supposed.

She needed to relieve some stress after all. And so after escorting Nana back to the Sawada residence and making sure the woman was settled and kids occupied, Ausiliatrice made her way outside, where the boy from earlier easily jumped down from the roof,

where he had been waiting, stifled and annoyed, but burning and broiling, because it was exciting, wasn't it? To find someone so interesting, just knowing with one look that this woman was strong (knowing she was a carnivore, like him, like him; companionship found in bloodshed).

Hibari Kyoya had also been rather straightforward:

"You're strong," he said, already brandishing his weapons, "Fight me."

"How polite," Ausiliatrice mused, her eyes scanning over his weapons, his stance, his bloodlust, as if looking down while she sharpening her knife; somewhat keen interest, but quick to move on to more threatening weapons. Quick to move on and dismiss _him_. And recognizing this, he nearly snarled and stepped forward –

A gunshot rang out, stopping Hibari in his approach. Ausiliatrice didn't flinch. Reborn, the tip of his gun smoking and then reverting back into his faithful chameleon, tipped his fedora upwards, looking down at the two from his position on the wall.

"It's rude to attack a woman without asking first, Hibari," Reborn reprimanded, smirking slightly.

"Baby," Hibari addressed, his eyes going back to his opponent, "why did you interrupt me?" Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed, barely, determining what Reborn was up to. Scheming, she decided, but for whose benefit?

"I just thought you would like to know," Reborn explained, "just who you were about to attack. This is Atalanta," he introduced, barely gesturing to her, "one of the best assassins in Italy." And for a moment, Ausiliatrice considered feeling content that her father recognized her in that aspect, but she realized that she felt nothing.

"In other words," Reborn continued, "if you fight her, you _will_ lose Hibari. There's no doubt that she is out of your league." The boy snarled in response, steel eyes glinting, cutting, but not being able to penetrate Ausiliatrice's nor Reborn's strong gaze (same gaze, identical, genetic).

"Don't tell me what to do, Baby," he barked, and then turned to his opponent, here, someone who understand this language, who was like him, a predator, a carnivore, clearly above others but was about to be beneath the steal of his weapon, skin bitten by teeth of metal, "I'll bite you to death!"

And Ausiliatrice simply shifted her weight slightly in response, tilting her head upward slightly and showcasing her neck, bare and naked:

an invitation.

And Hibari Kyoya bared his teeth.

(but oh, but oh, but oh, what was a wild, alley cat to a lioness?)

(nothing but fresh blood spilled to pass time)

* * *

"You used me to teach him humility," she stated as they walked back from the hospital.

"A lesson he didn't learn," Reborn said with the barest trace of a frown, walking on the tall wall beside her, their eyes travelling at the same level, side by side. Black beside black forming twice the abyss.

"For Tsunayoshi," she guessed correctly.

"He's a possibly guardian," Reborn admitted, "and will become a valuable asset to Tsuna's family. Eventually, but first- "

"You want me to train him."

"… I figured you would understand," he admitted with no remorse at his actions. Ausiliatrice nearly bristled, narrowing her eyes, disliking being used. Offended, and hotly so.

"I'm guarding Dino," she stated, curt. Her words aligned with body, rigid. Reborn stopped as well, and turned slightly, looking back at where she had stopped.

"I had planned for Dino to train him as well," Reborn explained, "but when I learned that you… were involved, then I decided that Hibari would respond better to someone more like himself before Dino was introduced."

"Why?"

It was a loaded question, with many answers Reborn wasn't ready to give.

"Because family helps family," he said simply, without a drop of emotion on his face. And Ausiliatrice acted as a mirror.

"You use that label now?" She asked.

When it's convenient for you, when it benefits your charge, is what she didn't say, when it only helps you on the job, is what didn't escape her lips, but it's what transpired in the air between them, it was what was understood without having to vocalize.

Small talk, Ausiliatrice thought in that moment, had always been hard for her.

"Did you ever love her?" She asked boldly, looking her father in the eyes, abyss reflecting void.

 _"I know," he had said._

 _"I figured," she responded. And then, almost softly, he asked, no, he established needlessly, because wasn't it obvious enough:_

 _"Esmeralda?"_

 _"Dead," she confirmed._

 _"I see."_

 _And what more could be said? Neither were good at this, at small talk, at filling empty air between them with pleasantries._

 _(like father, like daughter)_

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

(But don't we all love the dead, only after the fact?)

(Oh how he hated, she hated small talk)

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Again, sorry for the short chapters, but I kind of want to keep updating this weekly, and I got so many wonderful reviews from you guys, so I wanted to give you something! Writing Hibari and Ausiliatrice is fun. And honestly, I want to get this out and die (go to bed) so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. I'll look over it and correct it sometime this week. Hopefully, I can update again over my fall break and get a longer chapter so I can knock out a bunch and get to what I want to get to. But until then, I'll try to give you guys weekly updates, or rather, just update when I can._

 _I just really want to get to these two scenes I already have written, and I'm hella pumped. One of them is greatly inspired by "God Help the Outcasts" from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which is another song that reflect Ausiliatrice so much, and the other is inspired by "Here Comes a Thought" from Steven Univererse, Mindful Education._

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **Andy:** Aw, thanks so much? And as for if she'll ever harmonize.. who knows? (I do, lmao) Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest:** Glad you approve. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest:** Yeah, I usually prefer long chapters too, but I want to get content out to you guys, and update somewhat regularly. Haha, "Angel with a Shotgun" does fit! Thanks for letting me know, and for reviewing. And don't worry, it's like 3 AM here, lmao. _

**_Question (two this time):_**

 ** _Cat or Dog person?_**

 _I love both, but I am a cat person all the way._

 ** _For Harry Potter Fans (if I haven't asked this before, but I had a conversation/fight with someone recently):_**

 ** _What house do you think Ausliatrice is in?_**

 _To make it unbiased, I will reveal my answer next time, but I will fight people over this._

 _-Evenly_


	15. Lesson 15: To Philosophize

**Lesson 15: Her Mother Taught Her to Philosophize**

* * *

 _"There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice."_

 ** _-F. Scott Fitzgerald_**

* * *

"Ah, Ausiliatrice!" Dino greeted, seeing the woman at the top of the stairs. She stopped before her descent, leaning an arm, then body causally at the wall to gaze down at the group.

Gokudera choked loudly, nearly losing the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"T-that's!"

"Yeah," Dino hummed in agreement, "She also goes by Atalanta. My bodyguard," he continued, clearly amused by the teen's disbelief.

"Someone like that," Gokudera gestured in disbelief as Ausiliatrice calmly made her descent, "is guarding your sorry ass?!" Yamamoto laughed, throwing a friendly arm around Tsuna, who was nearly panicking at the situation, not knowing whether to shush Gokudera, or just hide himself away as his friend insulted the older boss.

"Is she playing the game too?" Yamamoto asked, smiling over at Ausiliatrice. She barely narrowed her eyes at his question, and quickly surveyed the two.

Potential Guardians, Reborn had said.

"Close friends?" She addressed Tsuna, startling him. He hesitated, then nodded.

"Y-yeah, I guess…" She nodded once.

"Good." And then she promptly grabbed Dino's hood before he slipped on the steps he had been trying to ascend, effectively preventing further disaster. The three boys stared as she set Dino on his feet and he, per routine, mumbled useless excuses, blaming the almost-accident on anything but himself.

"…I guess she really is his bodyguard," Tsuna muttered in bare disbelief.

"You coming, Tsuna?" Dino asked, coughing into his fist first, before straightening himself and once again turning to go up the stairs (albeit, with a bit more caution this time), "we can finish talking in your room, yeah?"

"Ah, y-yeah," Tsuna said quickly.

"It was nice meeting you," Yamamoto said, smiling at Ausiliatrice once again, and bowing slightly before following Dino. Gokudera simply nodded once, maintaining a wary distance and a suspicious gaze on the woman before following as well. Tsuna hesitated, looking back at the woman once before meeting her eye, paling, sputtering and nearly running up the stairs.

Ausiliatrice watching him go. Cute, she thought, and amusing. Not fit for his role, she added with a frown. But, she continued, considering the two she had just met, had just reviewed, how they interacted and placed themselves around Tsuna, how Yamamoto had immediately thrown a reassuring arm over Tsuna the moment his mood change, how Gokudera had immediately shifted to where he could reach his dynamite;

good friends, she defined. Trustworthy. _Loyal_. And that was enough for her.

(and enough for him too, she knew, because that was what he wanted, wasn't it? Family)

(and yet, it was sad that his would soon be so soaked in blood)

* * *

It was coincidental, really, that Dino had managed to hospitalize Tsuna in the same establishment (and for a moment, she considered whether or not it was wise to continue to allow Dino to be around Tsuna so much without her supervising; but she reminded herself, Reborn was with them and it would be unprofessional if he allowed both his current and former charge to die). And so while Dino visited the young boss, Ausiliatrice decided to visit one of her own.

(Because they were alike, weren't they? Which is what led Ausiliatrice to her decision)

"You look well," she said honestly, walking into Hibari Kyoya's hospital room. The younger glared at her, eyes glinting and cutting. Lip and eye still swollen slightly, she noticed. Arm in a sling, bandages littered the small amount of exposed skin, and leg heavily wrapped and caste.

"What," he spat out, venomous and right to be, "are you doing here?"

"Ausiliatrice," she supplied, introducing herself. "We were never _properly_ introduced, after all," she explained, going to the window casually, and leaning, placing herself on the sill just as. He hesitated, his eyes never leaving her form; eyes stalking, eyes hunting and full of bloodlust. But, Ausiliatrice could use that to her advantage. She knew how to deal with her own, after all.

"Hibari Kyoya."

Silence passed, not pleasantly, of course, hostility emitting from Hibari. But Ausiliatrice's chilled aura seemed to push against and overwhelm, to where his aggressiveness remained within him and was barely quelled.

"You heal fast," she noted, "so do I. This is beneficial." His eyes narrowed, seeing the menacing between her words easily.

"You want to fight me again." A statement that should have brought him excitement. But the way she was implying it? He translated it as condescending, as her looking down on him (but with how she beat him so easily, how she tore into him and had the audacity to let him live and bring him to the hospital herself to receive medical attention? She had every right to. But he would never admit this, not even to himself).

"Did the baby put you up to this?"

She straightened her posture and Hibari felt his body tighten by the distinct and sudden change in her mood; offense, he picked up, but also disappointment in him, for believing that she allowed another person to tell her what to do.

"You…" she answered instead, "you remind me of myself. I want to fix that."

Because she saw herself, in this boy. She saw when she was lost, in pain, and _violent_ ; bloodthirsty. Before she had healed, after Mateus had left her. And she wondered what he had lost to make him this way, to make him bloodthirsty to this extent. Because blood lust was natural, of course (in predators like him, in predators like her), but to this extent, _to this extent_ : what was he fighting for? This question, Ausiliatrice did not care if she got an answer to, as long as she could help him fight for this cause well. Because as he was now, blindly falling into rampage? Disgraceful. And she expressed this all with a single look of disdain and the boy understood immediately.

"Carnivore," he addressed, anger and excitement once more radiating from him, despite his many injures (injuries received from this woman who was allowing him a chance to redeem himself), "I'll bite you to death."

And Ausiliatrice barely hummed in response, her abyssal eyes glinting and responded:

"Ausiliatrice. You will refer to me by my name."

And this, Hibari decided, glowering and anger sparking at her command, but begrudging thinking he could at least respect her _suggestion_. He could, he concluded, both want to kill and respect this carnivore, could he not? As long as he was standing over her in the end (something along the lines of winning battles but not yet wars, but Hibari wanted to dominate them all).

"And to clarify," she stated, turning her head slightly to look back at him just before exiting, body already to the open door,

"I am here on my own terms; not of my father's will."

And she was gone, leaving Hibari Kyoya, for once, for once, for once, completely surprised and then; more excitement, more bloodlust, more will for him to recover and bite her to death, because this? This new Carnivore, Ausiliatrice,

this was _interesting_.

(Indeed, indeed, this little town had become a lot more interesting since that baby showed up)

* * *

And if Ausiliatrice saw Tsuna, hysterical and looking half dead from shock form the events of his day being rolled into the lower depths of the hospital, she nearly blinked slowly and continued on her way;

she may find him amusing, but the Vongola Decimo's health really wasn't her problem.

* * *

In their three days in Japan, Ausiliatrice had taken up residence in the Sawada household. She fell into routine of patrolling Namimori, key spots being the hotel where the Cavallone was staying and the future Vongola Decimo's house, and then spending her free time around the house, mostly getting to know Nana. Which, Ausiliatrice surprised herself, found the warm atmosphere enjoyable. Mateus, she decided, would have liked it here, which brought a small smile to her lips.

She had heard Nana speak a little of Bianchi, and had heard slights of the poison scorpion while in Europe.

"Bianchi is on a trip," Nana had expressed one morning while handing Ausiliatrice a cup of freshly brewed coffee, "and she should be back any day now." At which Ausiliatrice would hum in response and take slight note; she would decide if this girl was of interest to her upon actual meeting, and before then? Ausiliatrice had always kept strong to her philosophy of only forming an opinion after meeting the person, after all.

And thusly, she formed an opinion of Haru Miura while answering the door after the girl's knock. The younger, obviously surprised upon seeing an unfamiliar and stunning woman open the door, blushed immediately and almost stepped back in slight surprise. Ausiliatrice stood tall and calm, allowing the girl to gathering herself. Haru bowed slightly, as if in apology.

"A-ah, this is the Sawada residence, is it not?" the girl asked politely, using formal Japanese, Ausiliatrice noticed. Brown eyes, large eyes glanced shyly up at Ausiliatrice.

"Yes," Ausiliatrice answered simply, "I'm a guest. Nana Sawada is out."

"Ah, what a relief!" The girl immediately slumped in relief, "Haru thought she had come to the wrong house!" Ausiliatrice simply quirked an eyebrow at the use of third-person, but gestured for the girl to come in, watching her carefully. She, however, immediately, politely shook her head and declined.

"Ah! There's not need to invite me in, thank you," she said, still keeping a polite tone and smiling brightly, "Haru's just here to pick up Ipin and Lambo!" She continued excitedly, and turned her upper half, her hands going to rummage in her bag and procure an article, looked to be ripped out of a magazine. She showed it to Ausiliatrice excitedly. "You see, this article shows-"

"Lambo's ready for cake!"

Ausiliatrice careful and skillfully stepped the side, allowing Lambo to barrel out the door, trip and then tumble, running into Haru's legs. Ipin followed in suit, reprimanding Lambo in her native tongue.

 _"Lambo, be polite!"_ the young girl scolded, before noticing Ausiliatrice was there. The dark-skinned woman kneeled, motioning Ipin over while Haru attempted to deal with a now-sniffling Lambo.

 _"Do you know this girl?"_ Ausiliatrice asked in Mandarin. Ipin nodded shyly and smiled similarly, giving Ausiliatrice all the confirmation she needed. She nodded once, and rose to her full height once again. Ipin bowed slightly and then ran to cling to Haru's leg.

"Ah," Haru said, looking back over at the woman, and then asking, "would you like to come with us, miss-"

"Ausiliatrice," the woman supplied, "and no. I'll remain here. Thank you for your consideration." Once again the girl blushed, then clapped her hands and bowed.

"Thank you for you kindness!"

A nice girl, Ausiliatrice defined and the trio left, a bit eccentric, but kind. Her mind went to Tsuna, who she could now hear being abruptly woken up by Reborn (and Ausiliatrice frowned and wondered briefly), and then guessed that Tsuna must know the girl as well.

And she wondered what other people he chose to surround himself with.

Interesting people, she decided, and then thought with humor:

What an eccentric family he was gathering.

(but where was her father's place, and in relation, hers? Was it on her own, as she would like to think?)

* * *

"Bianchi," Reborn called, hanging back from the group as they returned home after their 'adventure' in the mountains. And in response, the girl grew smitten and turned, a slight blush on her cheeks. She looked down at him fondly as he approached.

"Yes, Reborn?"

"I want to be honest with you."

"You know you can tell me anything," she said kindly, clasping her hands gently and putting them over her heart.

"Let me finished," he said evenly, causing her to hesitate. This was as close to snapping at her that he had gotten, and this? This put her on edge. She noticed suddenly, all at once, and felt shame for this deeply, that her love seemed upset almost; not on edge but perhaps… something was bothering him. This much was obvious to Bianchi's eyes.

"I'm only telling you this first because I don't want you to react… unpleasantly."

"Reborn…." she muttered, her face softly surprised, and then that was replaced with a smile, just as gentle. She knelt and then rested her knees on the pavement, now almost on the same level as him. "I'll listen to you patiently. You know this."

His eyes, however, remained unbiased and as endless as ever. His mouth remained in a firm line, but beyond skin and into mind, he was thinking and turning ideas over, and over, considering and then rethinking. And he spoke:

"There's a woman back at the house. And that woman is my daughter."

* * *

Poison Scorpion Bianchi was staring at her, and quite frankly, Ausiliatrice was getting annoyed with it. Just when she had been twitching, her fingers going to her hip out of habit, Nana excused herself, retiring for the night. With Tsuna and Reborn already in the Decimo's room, and the children already asleep, Ausiliatrice rose immediately to dismiss herself as well, aiming to retreat to the hotel in order to escape this annoying tension, and was about to form words of thanks to the Scorpion for allowing Ausiliatrice to use her room; but Bianchi cut her off.

"I know you're his daughter."

Ausiliatrice's eyes shifted to hers; and the resemblance was more crystal than ever in that moment. Ausiliatrice did not answer that claim. She didn't need to.

"I," Bianchi continued, "am in love with Reborn." And at this, Ausiliatrice's eyebrows knit together immediately not being able to hold back an expression as she thought about the logicality of the statement and running numbers in her head:

"But he's _old_ ," she responded immediately, nearly scrunching her nose.

(and upstairs, Reborn sneezed suddenly, momentarily waking himself up before grumbling and returning to sleep)

"Love knows no age," and before Ausiliatrice could voice her disagreement, Bianchi continued, "but I wanted you to know, because you are his daughter…" and she retained eye contact strictly through this exchange, and Ausiliatrice found herself growing tense

(because Ausiliatrice had dealt with discarded lovers before, after all, after all, and the result left her body burning once more and she grew uncomfortable suddenly)

"I know you are not your mother," Bianchi said, despite saying the last word with slight disdain, and then calmed herself, looking away for a moment, "and I do not know any information about her; but I do know that I love Reborn, and I will not let anything get in the way of that love" –

and here, Ausiliatrice stiffened again, and actually placed her hand on the gun, hidden beneath her jacket, on her hip and prepared (what for, what for?)

– "But I want you to know that you are part of that love," she explained, put her hands over her chest and smiling softly, "because you're his daughter, and he cares for you, I will care for you as well."

Ausiliatrice grew cold at this statement and found herself nearly scowling, becoming offended, but Bianchi recognized this and corrected:

"As a friend," she stated, nodding calmly, "because I would never be so foolish to try to replace… this is a matter of love, "she stated firmly, once again meet Ausiliatrice's eye, "and I want you to know that when it comes to love, I understand. I love Reborn, and I'll love you as he does."

A moment passed. And Ausiliatrice shattered if with a cold scoff.

"No need," she said, "He doesn't."

And Ausiliatrice continued on her way and left,

leaving Bianchi in slight shock, and this morphed to irritation, leaving her eyebrows furrowed. And she frowned, thinking of the situation, thinking of love. And she made a decision,

because love always triumphs, love always wins, no matter the kind, no matter the type:

as is, as always will be Bianchi's philosophy.

(and again, upstairs, Reborn stirred in his sleep, feeling unease, almost annoyance, as if he already was aware of what had just been decided just downstairs)

(ah, the art of women, and their decisions)

(Hell has no fury indeed)

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Bruuuuuh, I realized that we're almost to 300 reviews, and I love you all so much! Let's keep going wonderful people! After all, more reviews make me update faster, hence this update before the weekend._

 _Should I do anything special for 300? If you want, you guys can give me questions, and I can have Haru interview Ausil, which should be fun. Let me know what you think!_

 _Explanation for Bianchi: honestly, I can't see her hating Reborn's daughter. The mother of the daughter, hell yeah, but the daughter herself? Nah man, Bianchi's all about love, and all kinds of love, both romantic and family love. And I have a head canon for Bianchi that will come up later that explains her relationship with Reborn more, that is actually displayed beautifully in the fic **"Mafia Ever After" by Luki Dimension** (which can be found in my Favorite Stories), which elaborates on a head canon about Bianchi that I'm so pumped other people share, and a head canon I will be using for this story. But yeah, I can totally see Bianchi wanting to get close to Reborn's daughter if he had one, especially if she thinks that Reborn has love for them, which in her mind, he absolutely should because they're family. So, to Bianchi, it just makes logical sense. _

_But I had fun with this, especially Ausil commenting on Bianchi's and Reborn's relationship (the "but he's old" comment actually just came naturally out of her character, and I actually laughed a bit when I wrote it, because it was so in the moment for her)_

 _I'm going to try to have the next chapter be longer and hopeful knock out possible both the rest of the daily life arc and the Mukuro arc, so we'll be at the Varia arc? No promises, but I might be able to do this, since I'm out for two days next week on fall break. So, fingers crossed._

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **New Fan:** Haha, glad that you jumped on board! Thanks for the love and the review! _

_**kalyle07:** Hibari and Ausiliatrice are fun to write, and interesting, because they think simarly and are able to understand each other easily. And you're right about her being a hufflepuff! Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Too Lazy to log:** Yeah, Ausil and Reborn are definitely not immediately going to be fluffy or have father-daughter bonding. And I'm glad that you liked the scene with Hibari! And good job on guessing the house! You were pretty accurate, bruh. Thanks for the review! _

_**nekoneko:** Yep, Hufflepuff! Ding-Ding! And same with the cats. Thanks for the review! _

**_Last time's answer to What Hogwart's House is Ausiliatrice in?_**

 _Hufflepuff, bruh. You can actually kind of see it in this chapter, but she values loyalty a lot, and she herself is very loyal when someone earns it. Also, she respects hard-work, and remembers whose who did favors for her. This is best expressed in her relationship with Squalo, who she is still thankful to for killing Tyr and not forcing her to join the Varia. Slytherin would be the second house I would pick for her. Also, I could see her as a prefect/head girl at hogwarts and fiercely protecting her Hufflepuff babies. Do with this information what you will._

 ** _Question:_**

 ** _Favorite_** ** _snack?_**

 _Well, right now I'm eating animal crackers, and I guess it depends on my mood, but I really love Whales, which are a kind of cheese cracker-like, baked snack; like goldfish, but a saltier, think Cheese Its, but not as cheesy._


	16. Lesson 16: To Surprise

**Lesson 16: Her Mother Taught Her To Surprise**

* * *

 _"The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get."_

 ** _-Joanna Hoffman_**

* * *

"Ah? You're not wearing a yukata?"

Ausiliatrice met him with a hard look.

"I'm not Japanese," she stated coolly. He hummed, and continued smiling, despite her brushing his statement to the side, despite her off-putting attitude she was emitting. "And it's kimono."

"Then I take it that you're not coming to celebrate New Year's with us, right?" He pressed further, smiling and nodding thanks for her correction. Her looked turned to vague disbelief, almost disappointment that he would even humor the question. "Oh come on, Ausiliatrice!" He said, folding his arms behind his head, his eyes slipping to the side once, seeing more of his men filter into the hotel lobby before sliding back to her, "why not celebrate with the family?"

 _Because I'm not part of this family_ , is what she almost said.

"Too busy keeping you alive," is what formed from her lips instead. He laughed again, grin lopsided, but allowed his insistence to fade.

"You act like that's a difficult job!" He then drew fake offense from the look she gave in response. "You hurt me, Ausiliatrice," he sighed, putting a hand over his heart as he began walking away (his men, his family, behind him, as always, as always), "you really do. But, I guess you'll be around, yeah?"

And she didn't even bother to confirm. It was her job, after all.

But her mind couldn't help but wonder, leaning on the cold concrete wall, looking down at the rambunctious family from the bridge by the river where the family was holding the event (watching her father, taking note of Reborn and not knowing how to feel). She watched their little New Years game with hollow in her heart, with a pang of guilt.

If he had lived, she thought, he would have loved this. If he had lived, and if they had continued together (and they would, they would, _they would_ ), he would have wanted them to play, to divulge in these foolish games, these trivial matters. If Mateus were here, he would have loved this, these people, this family.

He would have wanted them to join, she realized suddenly. If he had lived, if he had lived, _if, if, if_ :

but he hadn't. He was long dead and she was here alone, watching this happy family, watching these children play in ignorance of the dark future they were soon to be thrust into,

and she had reached her goal, and now had nothing.

 _Goal_ , she thought with dull amusement. Ha. Was it ever truly a goal? What did she ever hope to gain from finding her father? Did she ever hope at all, or was it just a filler, a listless activity to pursue until the day she died. She had never been ambitious, after all. She simply fought for herself, reached her full potential, because what else could she do? Without being one of the best she would never have survived. Her ambition came purely from the need to survive, and could that be defined as ambition at all?

And suddenly, she realized:

Her life, in its entirety, had always revolved around someone else. When she was younger, it was her mother. As a teen, it had been Rashida, and then, a happier time, her life had been Mateus, her love, their love, and for that little while, she felt a small part of her life finally revolving around herself (and that universe collapsed all at once, leaving her again with an empty void), But overarching? She had always positioned herself in gravity to this mysterious figure she had never truly wanted to meet in the first place. She was looking for fulfillment, but had never asked this of herself.

And now?

Something stirred in Ausiliatrice, watching this family, watching Tsuna and his guardians, watching Dino and his men, watching her Father, watching Reborn. A piece clicked into place, and her universe shifted.

She had always thought herself to be a sunflower, one that found suns and revolved around them. But she had been wrong; she was the sun that flowers opened up to, that they followed, that they loved. And what a beautiful, volatile, burning star she made.

And for the first time in her life, on brisk New Years leaning against cold concrete and looking down, over others, she had a glimmer of this realization, and her universe shifted, the planets aligned momentarily and separated once more for eons;

she had been waiting for herself all along, and finally, finally, finally, she decided it was time to stop and realize,

she was the sun of her own universe, and it was time to shine for herself. It was time to do what she wanted, without the influence of others, waiting on no one, not even herself;

she would make a home out of herself.

(with how empty she had been, it should be easy to make a home out of the hollows, to rebuild what she had been emptying for so long, so long. But saying this, realizing this, was still a long, far cry from making it happen)

And Ausiliatrice felt herself sigh, she felt her body slump, if only slightly, and she felt an estranged, strangled weight life from her shoulders. And feeling this tension release, she asked herself what she wanted out of her own life, and the answer came easy enough.

She would simply do what she wanted,

(To shine and burn as a sun, and float and be free as a cloud)

(she was her mother's daughter, she was her father's daughter)

and she had her resolution for the new year.

* * *

She opened the door, a hand casually on the halter on her hip. The Poison Scorpion met her gaze with an easy smile and a graceful nod of welcome. Ausiliatrice's eyes, however, were trained on what the younger woman had in her arms.

"You do realize," Ausiliatrice stated dryly, "that this action comes across as a threat."

"Nana wanted to send left overs," Bianchi stated, "so rest assured, I had no hand in making this. But, I hope you know that I would never try to poison you, Ausiliatrice."

"Says the poison mistress." Bianchi shrugged gracefully in response, not at all bothered by the connotations (and understanding this, this style, this wariness, because this was both of their lives).

"It's a skill that comes in handy. May I come in?"

"You want to talk about Reborn," Ausiliatrice accused, remaining rooted, leaning to the side of doorway, the door itself not fully open and opposing Bianchi from entrance into the hotel room.

"I want to talk about love," Bianchi rearranged, causing Ausiliatrice to raise a single, slender brow. A moment, and then a slight scoff. Not exactly a cold one, Bianchi noticed. Improvement.

Ausiliatrice moved one hand forward, taking the boxed food easily from the teenager.

"Get me drunk, then maybe I'll consider talking about what you don't understand."

And with those words, she shut the door. Bianchi blinked at the abrupt end to the conversation (although, could what transpired even pertain to that definition?). But the poison mistress smiled, and took Ausiliatrice's words, and interpreted them to her liking:

as a future invitation.

(Love could triumph yet, love would triumph indeed)

(and now, to work on the other side)

* * *

Ausiliatrice smoothly entered Dino's makeshift office, walking to the desk and setting down a bottle of alcohol. She plunked two glasses down and pulled a chair near for herself. Dino blinked, looking up from his papers, pushing himself up from where he had been leaning his head heavily on his head. He gave her a tired, confused look. She simply poured a glass and pushed it towards him. The glass made a delicate sound against the grain of the table.

"Why?" Was all the boss could muster.

"I discovered long ago that none one should drink alone," she said, pouring liquid in her own glass. He stared at her, watching numbly as she put the bottle in front of him, barely having to lean forward due to her long arms.

"… you're telling me that I'm your replacement for a drinking buddy?"

"Add it up, Cavallone," she said with vague amusement, taking a sip before continuing: "And you need a break from the Gospella problem." He stared, once again (but this, he thought, was his reaction a majority of the time with this woman; nothing but staring, for that was all he could manage in response). He sighed, and began pouring into his own glass.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know about that."

"I'm your bodyguard. I know everything."

And he wisely continued in his own ignorance.

"So," Dino stated, after a few sips and minutes of blissful silence, "I realized that we still don't know each other that well. Or, really, I don't know you at all."

"That's a statement," She responded smoothly. He snorted, rolling his eyes a bit before leaning back in his chair, taking his glass with him.

"Oh, come on, Ausiliatrice – God, that's mouthful," he noted before continuing, "you said yourself; you already know everything about me. Shouldn't I know you better now?"

"No." And he hummed, displeased with her curt response. But he honestly did not expect more out of the woman. But Goddamn, did he try to form words from her silence, _Goddamn_.

"Okay…" he began, stirring the contents of his glass, considering, "then let's play detective." She raised an eyebrow.

"Childish," she dictated. He grinned, rolling his shoulders casually.

"Hey, you're the one who suggested I take a break," Dino reminded, "and so let's start with that; I assume you had a drinking buddy, yeah?" She narrowed her eyes, offing a slight air of irritation; but,

she could play cat for now. She nodded once, and he continued:

"So that means you have friends! Wow, I'm –

" _Watch it_." He quickly coughed into his hand, setting down his glass carefully on the desk.

"Right. And you said you traveled, right? So where are you originally from?" Ausiliatrice blinked, considering the question.

Where had she been born? That question, and the consequential answer, had never been an important factor in her life. She was born to her mother, Esmeralda. And that was the end of that, that was the importance of her birth. She doubted she had any papers, anyway, and therefore never had a country to call home. Not that she wanted one in the first place. The homes she had made and found for herself had been enough.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Dino asked in disbelief when she had told him such. She shrugged again, not caring about the subject and expecting to move on. "Where's your mother from then? Your father?"

She considered it, and answered the same.

"I never thought," she established after he cycled through the same reaction, "to ask. I told you. We traveled."

"Alright," he accepted, sighing and slumping a bit in disbelief, "so your family traveled –

"No. My mother and I did," she corrected, almost a snap.

"And your father?" he asked, systematically. She shrugged once more.

"He wasn't relevant." And at this, Dino's eyebrows furrowed and met, and confusion and disbelief struck him; because this concept went against his very core of family. He was familiar with instances like these, of course; but every instance that reached his ears always struck a chord, always made his acutely aware of his own privilege. It made him sad while appreciating what he was gifted with from birth, and it made him want to share this very gift ( _family_ ).

"I'm… I'm sorry, Ausil."

It took a moment to register two things: empathy, first, was what she had a hard time understanding. Why apologize for her own absent father? Why apologize for something one knows so little about, for circumstances that even she herself is unaware of? And why apologize to her in the first place? What words does she need, what strength does she need from this? None, she answered herself, for there are so many more unfortunate than here, so many other forgotten that could not rise above as she did. She was one of the few lucky ones, for her situation. And for that, she was grateful, for she recognize her privilege, she recognized her own strength.

After this confusion, came familiarity.

"Ausiliatrice," she responded ever so easily, and then was struck with the wrongness of the situation. And for a moment, she stared openly at Dino, struck with pain.

She hurt, clearly, and Dino could see that.

One raw moment.

And then she downed her drink, slammed it on the table, and rose. She grasped the bottle of alcohol as she turned, and without looking back, said,

"Never call me that again."

And she left him entirely, wondering and regretting what he had done to hurt her so.

(And oh, how sad, how their progress had shattered in such few syllables)

* * *

"You should talk to her, you know."

And Reborn glanced over at the woman leaning in the doorway, the harsh light from the open fridge illuminating the room. And in this light, his eyes glinted.

"She doesn't want to talk, Bianchi," he stated coolly, retrieving the bottle of milk and closing the fridge, encasing them in darkness once more. Bianchi smiled softly, unseen in the dark, but flipped the light easily enough, moving to join Reborn as he sat at the kitchen table.

"You don't know that," she accused lightly, propping her head on her arms and leaning. "It wouldn't' hurt to try, you know." He took a drink, and set the class down. A breath, more of sigh. Sad and strange, coming from this form.

"I did. Long ago," he admitted listlessly. "I got my answer then."

"She's not her mother, you know," Bianchi pointed out, distaste leaking into her voice without acknowledgement. She gathered herself however, becoming soft once more while considering the woman in question, the daughter of the man she claimed to love. The woman, she felt, that she had a connection to. That she wanted a connection with. For love, and reasons beyond.

(because they were alike, Bianchi felt, and she wanted to know for sure, to confirm, and then share this with another women, like her, like her, because this world they were born into did not accept people like them, woman like them, outcasts)

Reborn considered the girl's words. And he thought.

"Reborn," Bianchi breathed out, reaching forward, across the tables to clasp his tiny hands, "all I'm asking for is a chance; for love. For _family_ ," she reiterated. And Reborn nearly grimaced, almost annoyed that she knew him so well. Achilles heel indeed.

"No," Reborn said finally, "She's not her mother…. but she's not entirely unlike her." And with that, Reborn slipped his hands from Bianchi, hopped down from the seat and made his way back upstairs, leaving the empty bottle on the table. Bianchi sighed once more, titling her head and allowing another soft smile.

Progress. Slow, but sure and unadulterated progress. She never held the illusion that this would be easy.

(But love never was, was it?)

* * *

Of all the things she expected to happen the next morning, she did not expect a child to latch onto her. She had expected Dino to give her a wide birth after their drink last night, given. He was a wise enough man to let someone like her have room, and she appreciated the gesture. But, when she opened the door in response to a knock outside of the makeshift office they had established in the hotel,

and had opened the door to a dreamy-eyed child, the Ranking Prince Futa to be exact, Ausiliatrice was ceremoniously caught off guard. Even more so when he had happily hugged her legs immediately upon her opening the door (with the only thing stopping her from reacting violently was the fact that she registered him as a child first and foremost)

"Miss Ausiliatrice, you've got to save me!" He explained rapidly to her in French.

Ausiliatrice herself stared down at the child, her hands instinctively and tentatively having gone to his shoulders. Dino and Romario blankly stared, in the midst of going through different papers and having become frozen in those positions.

"What," Dino managed to breath out finally, his tone extremely flat "is happening."

"Bad men are chasing me, Miss Ausiliatrice!" Futa said again, looking up at Ausiliatrice with pleading eyes; _puppy eyes_ , Ausiliatrice recognized. Her face nearly contorted, into an unfamiliar, but not entirely foreign expression. What was this, this feeling? Ah, sympathy.

"Describe them," she stated simply, surprising Dino. He watched keenly, as she listen to the child, intently, he noted. He viewed her as she handled him, carefully undoing his arms from her legs, and separating him slightly from her, but gently enough and not enough distance or spark unfamiliarity; if he needed, he could still reach out and touch her. It was the little details, Dino realized, that opened Ausiliatrice up to the child, that made her approachable. Details that only a child's pure mind would pick up on easily.

"Are you comfortable staying with Dino?" She asked softly after he had described the men, after detailing how they wished to harm him (and this put a furrow to her brow, this pulled her lips downward, this was unacceptable to Ausiliatrice). Futa nodded happily in response, and knelt, pulling a large book out of seemingly nowhere,

(which Ausiliatrice ignored; she had seen enough in her lifetime to know not to question things of this nature)

and he vigorously flipped through its many pages until satisfied, reading off:

"Dino ranks number 1 out of 82262 when it comes to mafia members who care for the welfare of civilians," he recited, then looked back up with a brilliant smile, "so I should be safe with him while you're gone."

She hesitated, then pat his head gently, ruffling his hair lightly. She rose to her full height, sending a look to Dino ( _don't fuck it up_ , he understood instantly, stiffening instantly and starting to lightly sweat).

"I'll back," she said simply before exiting, "soon."

She didn't need long to dispose of such low garbage, after all.

* * *

"It was no problem, really," Futa said after Dino gave his thanks, "I like bosses like you, after all."

"I guess that helps with the Gospella problem," Dino muttered, feeling relief wash over him as he handed the rankings to Romario, who passed it to another man, who then briskly made his way out of the hotel room with it. With one issue swept to the side, Dino turned his attention back to the child, sitting on the floor in front of his desk. The Ranking Prince Futa was happily looking through his impressively large ranking book with a pleased expression, clearly proud.

"Out of curiosity, Futa," Dino started, voicing his next thoughts, "why exactly did you come here anyways? It seemed like you were looking for Ausiliatrice in particular….?"

"Oh!" Futa said, smiling brightly and excitedly flipping pages, "that's because Miss Ausiliatrice is number 1 out of 83745 Mafioso most likely to protect children!" he explained, having small difficultly holding up his book to show the two men. "And so when I realized I was being chased, I looked up rankings for places that Miss Ausiliatrice was most likely to be, then narrowed it down to rankings where…"

and Futa continued, elaborating on his system of finding people. It was impressive, Dino thought, listening intently to the small boy's process. Impressive, and incredibly dangerous, if this power happened to fall into the wrong hands. No wonder this child was so sought after. Was this new information about his body guard surprising? No, he realized, strangely, it fit to him. But as she reentered, her clothes spotless despite clearly coming back from killing multiple men,

as he watched Ausiliatrice calmly interact with Futa and listen intently as he rambled excitedly, he realized that it wasn't surprising at all. And it was strange to him that this acceptance came so easily.

It was even stranger, however, when everything in the room began floating.

* * *

"Why can't I stay with you, Miss Ausiliatrice?" Futa asked again, causing her abyssal eyes to glance down at him.

"I move around too often to be toting a child," She explained, "and I doubt that Dino appreciated your gravity stunt earlier." Futa pouted.

"I didn't mean to mess up his papers! I just wanted to get more rankings on you!" She shushed him quietly, offering her hand in comfort. And he took it, swinging it slightly as they walked through the quaint town.

Ausiliatrice came as close as she allowed herself to panic when Futa had announced that he was going to stay with her for protection. And, instead, her mind grasped for the next person she knew suited to take care of the child, and the place closest where he would be protected.

"Nana Sawada will take care of you," She explained to the boy, frowning slightly as she noticed the impeding rain clouds above, "and you'll be protected as well."

"Is it fun there?" He asked excitedly.

"There are other children," She answered back easily, then nodded forward as they slowed, reaching the gates of the Sawada residence. The loud noises contained within the walls caused Futa's eyes to light up. Ausiliatrice allowed him to run up to the door, where he patiently waited, nearly bouncing as she made her way. She reached to knock on the door, loudly. There was a crash, and the sound of someone falling down the stairs. Seconds later, a disheveled and bruised Tsuna opened the door.

"A-Ausiliatrice!" He meeped, seeing who it was. She nodded once, and then gestured down to Futa.

"This is yours now," She said. Tsuna blinked once, and then looked down at the boy.

"You must be Tsuna!" Futa said nearly bouncing, "I can't wait to rank you!"

"…. what?" Tsuna muttered, looking back up to Ausiliatrice for explanation.

"I should get going," she said instead, and almost lazily pointed up, "it's going to rain soon." Tsuna nearly blanched with disbelief.

"You're just going to leave a kid with me!?" He quieted, however, seeing Ausiliatrice kneel down to address Futa. He grew confused when she began speaking another language, but picked up on other cues easily enough; gentleness. Kindness. Soft qualities that he would never expect to see in his life from the terrifyingly intimidating woman. She had always seemed distant and slightly bored when he had viewed her before, watching keenly and intently, and having the strict aura of only stepping in when necessary, and if necessary, carrying whatever needed out with acute efficiency. But now? She was talking to this child softly, making sure he was content and comfortable, and _listened to_. And Tsuna felt a warm flutter at this, this scene reminding himself of his own mother.

How could this woman be such a predator, yet maternal all at once? Open but dangerous, welcoming but intimidating, she was a walking paradox to Tsuna now; he was viewing a terrifying lioness, only realizing after second glance that she was protecting cubs.

Reborn watched as well, taking this all in from the top of the steps. His eyes stormed with thoughts and feeling, repressed and then forced to the surface for breath after years, years, years.

It was only after Ausiliatrice had walked away, leaving Futa in Tsuna's care (trusting him enough, Reborn noticed with interest, and wondering) that he decided to make a lesson and use this to his advantage.

A walking paradox indeed.

* * *

"Why is the Poison Scorpion texting my number and asking if you want to make chocolates with them for Valentine's Day?"

"… better your number than mine."

A page turn, and then an addition:

"If you cave in and give her my number, I'll give you a death worse than poisoning."

"... I don't doubt it, Ausiliatrice."

Fuck her job; that woman was too insistent for her tastes.

* * *

She considered her options while watching their snow fight:

Did she want to put effort towards building a relationship with her father? It would make Bianchi happy, of course, with the younger woman's attempts to get Ausiliatrice to talk to Reborn the few times they had crossed paths again. But what good would that effort be if he did not want this relationship in the first place? He was the world's greatest hitman for fuck's sake; he had to have known about his daughter making her way through the ranks of the underworld; he had to have known about her; he had to have known about Esmeralda's pregnancy; he had to have had numerous chances to establish that relationship, and yet he clearly let all these fade in sunset. Ausiliatrice, who she was now, where she is now, standing on the roof in the snow watching such a trivial and childish games (and yet, it made them happy, didn't it? Then perhaps it wasn't as trivial as she had thought) would not be standing here if not.

She had decided to live for herself now, to revolve only for her own benefit, but ah, thinking that and turning it into an action are two completely separate accomplishments.

And so, she would only pursue this relationship with her father if he himself put forth an effort. This, she concreted in her mind.

She supposed now, she could stay with Dino, continue to guard him and see if her father ever expressed this interest. But ah, wasn't this just another form of waiting? And she had sworn off that (but ah, but ah, but ah, that was who she was, unbeknownst to her: the one who waits).

Or? What else was there that she could do with her life now? She had already established herself as one of the best of the underworld, and this was without he even striving for this ambition. There was always Olympus, there was always joining a family,

(but she didn't want to do that, no, not without him)

and so what was left for her to do, if not what she had done her entire life?

Again, she considered staying by Dino's side, but for different reason than staying in close proximity to her father. Body guarding. Helping. She supposed that she enjoyed helping others to some extent. Helping children, in particular, she could admit to. She had Olympus as well, and connections through and beyond the organization. She sighed, however, frustrated, mildly watching the snow ball fight elevating below. She suddenly, however, realized a strong root of her frustrations:

she had never been the type to meticulously plan her life. Even when it was stable, with Mateus, they had never planned. They simply lived. She was an adapter, taking what came, destroying what opposed her, and appreciating the small blessings she received. Sure, given she used to have vague goals to move towards but now? She was aimless once more, and she considered her feelings on that. Not entirely negative, she defined.

But although she was _that_ , she was also a predator (as always, as always) and endlessly searched for action, not a purpose, but an _motion_ , something to tear into, to keep her occupied, to keep her from pacing or feeling caged in boundaries too small.

What a precarious balance she asked of life.

(But didn't she deserve as much? With all she had been through, with all she had violently wretched from her grip?)

(she knew that it was naive to think so)

* * *

"You want to shoot at Yamamoto to help him train, Ausil? Ack!" He shot back slightly, rubbing his for head from where she had harshly poked it.

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected coldly, then answered, "and no. I shoot to kill. I do everything in full." As was her way. Perhaps the only amendment to this was when she was teaching a lesson, but even then? Ausiliatrice was brutal with every action. And this was due to how she was raised, her upbringing, how she survived, because if the job was left undone?

"Isn't that a bit harsh? To fight only to kill?" Dino asked, frowning slightly as the two moved closer to the edge, watching as Yamamoto dodged the bullets (he showed signs of being natural hitman, Ausiliatrice thought with a frown, thinking of herself when she was his age).

"It's efficient," she rebutted. "I fight to survive," she continued, side eyeing him curiously, "and what do you fight for, Dino Cavallone?"

"My family," he answered effortlessly. She snorted, turning her attention back to the training fields below.

(Turning children into soldiers, turning children into assassins, turning children into killers)

"Same thing."

* * *

"I swear," she muttered, her hands going to the tie around his neck and tying it correctly, "you're useless." Dino laughed, with slight embarrassment, but easily considering how close she had gotten to him.

"Come on, Ausil – ack!" He leaned back, once again rubbing his forehead where she had aggressively poked it, "Ausiliatrice," he corrected wisely before continuing, "I mean, after all this time, I'm not too bad, right?" She blinked, her expression blank as she considered his question.

"I could do better," she muttered, causing him to blanch at her easy dismissal. She watched in the refection as she put on another necklace, hanging below Mateus's ring that she always wore around her neck, as Dino moved around the room, checking his phone and then answering it with ease;

this was their first time back in Namimori since the snow ball fight, and Ausiliatrice had continued to bodyguard Dino since then. And in that time? Ausiliatrice would have to admit, only by definition, that they had become more familiar with one another. Close was too causal of a word for their relationship. Comfortable? Perhaps it was a better fit, but it was not to that point for Ausiliatrice yet.

Dino had been able to distinguish her words and meanings much more fluently now, and was much more keen on picking up on her mood. And Ausiliatrice had become even more skilled at catching the boss before he fell, often doing so swiftly by catching his hood before he hit the ground.

Another common occurrence between the two: Dino had come into the bad habit of shortening her name, in which Ausiliatrice would always reprimand by poking him harshly in the forehead. A common occurrence that Ausiliatrice found herself getting used to. She found, her reflection mirroring herself as she did so, her fingers encased around Mateus's ring.

She didn't know what to think of this.

Neither did she know how to feel about the wedding between Bianchi and her father. Romario asked her as much, standing to the side of the room with her during the reception (as she had refused the spot that Bianchi had offered her; she had also been ignoring the usual antics that were occurring throughout the entire wedding because frankly, it was not her problem)

"Why do you ask?" She replied back, sipping on her drink and scanning the room. Romario looked over at her curiously, and then made a vague gesture towards the groom and bride.

"They can make their own decisions," Ausiliatrice concluded on the subject, despite her stomach twisting with uncomfortableness, "no matter the age difference," she couldn't help but add, with a small scrunch of her nose. At this, Romario nearly spit his drink out, never having considered this fact till now. While he nearly choked on his drink, however, Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed, spotting a familiar figure in the room.

Briskly, she handed off her drink to Romario (who was still choking, a rather shocked look on his face, as if reconsidering this entire event), and skillfully maneuvered the room, ignoring the chaos happening in the front of the reception hall.

"Shamal," she said, forcing a beautiful and deadly smile as she placed a hand on his shoulder. The man turned to her, clearly buzzed, but not enough to completely discard common sense, or rather, to pick up on an acute sense of foreboding.

"Ausiliatrice," He tried casually, putting his hands together and nodding a goodbye to the two women he had been chatting up, dismayed as the dark-skinned woman led him away from them, "I'm guessing that you've already met your father, considering we're at his wedding!" He attempted to laugh it off, but deterred, seeing that her demeanor had not changed.

"So, what do you think, huh?" He continued with the false casualness, which failed, naturally.

"I think that we're going to need to find another doctor on hand," she said, with a cold glint in her abyssal eyes. He never shivered, the earlier sense of foreboding having fully reached every inch of his body.

"Why so nervous, Shamal?" She asked, almost a sultry tone to her voice as her grip tightened on his shoulder, causing a pained, but suppressed sound to emit from the man, who retained his strained smile, "there's an open bar and you're being accompanied by a beautiful woman. You should be having the time of your life."

"For the record," he managed to mutter, "I want that on my tombstone after you kill me."

* * *

"So now you're just going with the flow, huh?" He stated, spinning the contents of his drink. She hummed in response, watching as the reception carefully trickled out around them. The two, however, remained at the bar.

"It adheres to me more, doesn't it?" She murmured, then changed suddenly, "Are you going to explain why you didn't tell me the details about the curse."

"…. I think that the answer is pretty obvious," he stated, almost solemnly. The two watched, across the room, as Bianchi and Reborn talked, while Tsuna and Dino stood nearby, exhausted from the bizarre events of the faux wedding (and Ausiliatrice felt relieved, nearly cringing when she thought about Bianchi and her father getting married).

"You going to stay with Cavallone?" Shamal asked. Ausiliatrice shrugged in response.

"It's nice," she admitted, surprising herself a bit, "the pay, the freedom; I can always leave for a bit to collect bounties and kills. As long as he doesn't die…. He's amusing," Ausiliatrice considered. She could at least allow him that.

"Ah? What's this?" Shamal teased, a goofy smile slipping across his features, "Perhaps young love?" Ausiliatrice gave him a cold look.

"You're drunk."

"True," he said, still grinning and taking another swig of his drink, "I'm just saying that you two would make beautiful-"

And she elegantly jabbed him in the gut, causing him to fall other with a loud and pained grunt.

"You're lucky I don't give beautiful woman diseases from my mosquitos," he said, voice muffled, his face against the ground. She finished her drink, holding her head high and getting up, smoothing out the fabric of her dress before moving to meet back up with her charge.

"I know."

As was the definition of their relationship.

* * *

It was sometime after Yamamoto had visited Italy (which had been an…. interesting number of days) that Dino first suggested it.

"You know that I'm going to beat the shit out of you, right?" She said bluntly, raising an eyebrow at the suggestion.

"I figured that we could spar sometime, right?" Dino said, wrapping his whip around his hand and then pulling it taught, "Besides, we need to keep in shape." Her features took an offended, dangerous front.

"I," he tried again, backtracking and apologetic, "need to stay in shape?" She nodded once and poked him in the forehead, although not as harshly as usual.

"Don't blame me if you're hospitalized."

And in the end, he was. But Ausiliatrice found, with surprise, that she had been injured by Dino as well.

(Amusing indeed)

* * *

"26?" Dino repeated, nearly falling out of the chair as he attempted to turn and look at her. Smoothly, and with one hand due to her carrying their next bottle of alcohol in the other, she grabbed his hood and set him up right once more, almost before he could register what happened. He laughed, casually rubbing the back of his head.

"Old chairs, right? Antiques," he excused his blunder, and Ausiliatrice simply hummed in response, used to his excuses. "But 26?" he repeated, moving on with the conversation, "I mean, I guess I never really put an age to you, you know? Wow. And you've accomplished so much."

Ausiliatrice raised an eyebrow at this, not expecting his praise. He answered the question in his looked, but not before taking another drink.

"I mean, you're one of the most well-known and feared assassins in the underground," he explained his reasoning, "all the high ups recommended your name to get the job done; you're right up there with the Varia, but your unaffiliated, I mean, technically, which is even more impressive."

She hummed in vague agreement, but dismissed it in the same gesture. She had never thought highly of her accomplishments, and thought of them just as such; simply accomplishments. And she had never thought herself to be worthy of praise. But Dino, she noticed, had never been able to hold his liquor, and was now rambling, as he often did when drunk.

Discretely, she pulled the bottle more towards herself, away from the boss.

"You've done things yourself," she reminded him, as courtesy. He stopped his ramble, looking over at her. Frowning. Her eyes narrowed as well, seeing distant memories resurface in his eyes.

"But I'm nowhere close to you," he said with an almost sad roll of his shoulders. Her eyebrows drew together and she frowned, becoming uncomfortable with this praise. She had always, she recalled, despised those who spewed empty words at her. But Dino? His angle derived from something else entirely.

"I'm not perfect Dino," she stated, "and neither are you. No one human is held to that standard."

(nor should they be, she thought, almost wincing, thinking of someone else who thought her to be such, but did so with their dying breath)

"Please," he breathed out, slumping forward, lightly swirling the barely remaining contents of his glass, growing sad suddenly, emotions rawed due to alcohol, "you don't understand. You _are_ perfect," he admitted with a small scoff, "everything you do. You never struggle, you never even have to try."

Ausiliatrice closed her eyes momentarily, concealing a small spurt of anger. There was a small thought of _how dare he_ , put she pushed that aside.

An all too familiar face, a face that sent a pang through her like a bullet, passed through her mind; a blinding smile and the crinkle of skin beneath his eyes.

"I trained for six years in the African savanna," Ausiliatrice began, collected and calm,"and before that, my mother taught me how to shoot. How to kill. How to survive on the streets. Sometimes, she wouldn't come back to me for days. And then, she didn't come back at all. I waited. I trained. I hunted. I grew." She set the bottle down after refilling her own glass.

"I waited for six years. For what? The fuck do I know. Still don't. And then?" She paused, uncomfortable memories returning to her. Momentarily her body burned, it stung painfully where the woman had touched her that night. "I left."

"And…" Dino murmured, now growing tired, his earlier emotional state fading as his eyes drooped (what a light weight, she though, slightly amused), "do you go back? Ever?"

It was a loaded question, and Ausiliatrice knew it was not just directed at her.

"I'm not the type," she admitted. But she was another type, whether she wanted to be, whether she still knew she was or not.

She was in a constant state of waiting, a point in the tide where the currents kept her. And perhaps the ocean would be merciful and carry others to her at times.

But then, it would rip them away from her just the same, leaving her grasping at sand that soon shifted beneath her feet. And often it took everything to keep her footing. And then she would stumble if she tried too hard to chase what the tide had taken away, only to get thrown back into the same spot. Waiting.

Where was she in the ocean now? And what would it bring her next.

She looked over at Dino, who had now passed out in his drunken stupor, and she wondered.

Would this (this small routine she had allowed herself to fall into) be ripped away from her as well?

She had discovered that her homes tended to be people, the only exception being the savanna. But the others? Her mother, Mateus. She could never return to them.

She had been staying with Dino for so long now. Remaining in one place. And she had yet to find herself restless as she had before.

Perhaps she was being too hopeful? It was something that she couldn't afford to be.

She watched him sleep, peaceful now, softly breathing. And she reached over, hesitating, before brushing small strands of hair away from his face, taking in the small bandages, the injuries still evident from their spar that he had only just recently healed fully from.

And she allowed herself to smile, if only softly, if only hesitantly.

And so she took this hope, and closed it in a sea shell, hoping that the ocean wouldn't tear it away.

(But wasn't Mother Nature cruel? She knew, best of all)

* * *

"You have a package?"

It was said with question and confusion. And Ausiliatrice mirrored this, taking the wrapped parcel from Dino. He watched, curious, curious, curious, and Romario leaned over as well, as Ausiliatrice set the package down, unmarked, she noted, and carefully open it, inspecting for poison, inspecting for blades, looking for anything that could cause her, or her charge, harm.

She wondered briefly if this was from Hera, but dismissed it seeing red fabric on the inside, which she gingerly pulled aside,

revealing a gun, intricate and with carvings of what looked to be lions. She titled her head, genuine surprise and interest overtaking her.

"A gun?" Dino asked, tilting his head as well. She barely hesitated, and picked the firearm up, inspecting it further.

"Custom made," he noted, seeing an engraving, initials on the metal, and then looking to find a small sliver of paper in the box.

"Who's it from?" Dino again, seeing what she had found. Her eyes barely narrowed, and her mouth pressed into a firm line, not knowing what to think of the gift.

"XX."

* * *

Xanxus leaned back in his chair (unleashed at last, the air warm searing hot, but he welcomed this unfamiliarity gladly as opposed to the icy hell had been subjected to for years), tenderly turning the gun over in his hand; a matching set, missing it's partner. However, his lips barely tugged upwards, his eyes alighting with amusement, having just confirmed that his package had been delivered.

All those years ago, she had given him a show.

And he would gladly return the favor.

* * *

 _"'Don't you know? That's the secret. If you always make sure you're exactly the person you hoped to be, if you always make sure you know only the very best people, then you won't care if you die tomorrow."_

 _'That doesn't make any sense. If you were so happy, then you'd want to stay alive, wouldn't you? You'd want to be alive forever, so you could keep being happy.'_

 _'No, no. It's the most unhappy people who want to stay alive, because they think they haven't done everything they want to do. The think they haven't had enough time. They feel they've been short-changed.'"_

 ** _-Carol Rifka Brunt (Tell the Wolves I'm Home)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _ **Do you guys want me to do a cute game show thing when we get to 300 reviews? If so, you can send in any questions you want Ausiliatrice to answer! Be sure to send in any now so I can go ahead and work on it!**_

 _I just love Ausil's softer side, especially when it comes to children. Anyways, moving on: THE VARIA ARC IS NEEEEXT. And I'm hella pumped. For like, many reasons. And hey, a longer chapter this time (because I'm on fall break, yay!)_

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **invasionofprivac:** Thanks so much! I can't wait to delve into Bianchi and Ausil's relationship more. Thanks for the review! _

_**Andy** : Nah, Reborn doesn't really know much about Mateus. And no one actually knows for sure that he was a sky, but it was heavily implied and kind of obvious for those who were aware of flames. But no, Reborn does not know that Ausil has lost her sky. And don't worry, Ausil's official flame type has not been officially stated yet :) Thanks for the review! _

_**Still Too Lazy:** Haha, glad you're connecting to Ausil through the houses! And Lmao, as for Reborn and Ausil talking, they're not talkative characters, so it's interesting to see them deal with this. And thanks so much for the confidence and the review! _

_**Guest27:** Ah, who knows if she'll ever bond with another sky... I mean, I do. Lmao. Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest:** Aw, thanks so much and thanks for the review! _

_**weaver jk:** Huffelpuff fits Ausil so well fro all those reasons. Fierce badger indeed. Thanks for the review!_

 ** _Question:_**

 ** _Do you like cold weather or warm weather better?_**

 _It's starting to get colder and I AM SO HAPPY. I love sweater weather so fucking much, and I'm so glad that it's actually starting to feel like fall where I live. Sweaters give me life._

 _-Evenly_


	17. Lesson 17: To Growl

**Lesson 17: Her Mother Taught Her To Growl**

* * *

 _"We are men of action. Lies do not become us."_

 ** _-William Goldman (Westley: The Princess Bride)_**

* * *

"Oi, Levi."

The older man turned carefully, one hand going to his weapon. Resting, while he viewed their youngest member carefully. Belphegor simply grinned back, per usual, standing behind Leviathan in the otherwise empty hallway.

"Heard that your team delivered a package for the boss," Belphegor sneered, hands in his pockets as the teen leaned back casually, eyes hidden as always, but never out of mind, "What was that about, huh?"

Leviathan's eyes barely narrowed, and his chin jutted just slightly, causing the self-proclaimed prince's grin to almost jerk momentarily in irritation.

"What's it to you, Bel?" Levi addressed, turning completely and then crossing his arms. The prince snickered, sending a shiver down the older's spine and causing his eyes to barely twitch, watching and turning again as the blonde nearly circled him, hands retreating and revealing themselves from the pockets of Belphegor's uniform as he turned his body again to face Leviathan.

"Curiosity killed the cat," the younger said, smiling cheekily despite spinning sharp silver vigorously, "and it's looking for it next victim."

Levi's hand twitched on the hilt of his nearest parabola. Bel remained readily armed, playful even, playful always, a wicked grin sharpened and prepped. A twitch, from both parties, and then, interruption:

"If you guys keep fighting like this, I'm going to stop patching you up, you know?" Lussuria warned, dissipating the heavy air as he neared. "Children should behave," he tutted, clicking his tongue lightly. Leviathan snorted, folding his hands once more and turning away from Belphegor defiantly.

"Levi won't squeal about the package he delivered for boss," Belphegor called out, pointing childishly at the older man. Leviathan himself turned on his heel, nearly hissing at the blonde to shut up before they got Lussuria involved, and thusly winced when he inevitably did.

"A package?" A moment, and then a clap of hands. "Boss sent someone a gift, and it wasn't to kill them?! Did you see what was inside, Levi?" Lussuria asked, excited now and turning to Levi. Leviathan sent once last, withering look to Belphegor (whose smile seemed to grow even bigger, impossible as it was, the cheeky brat). Genius indeed though, Leviathan thought begrudgingly, as he had turned Lussuria loose on him, and now all Belphegor had to do was sit back and watch as the flamboyant man became interested and pestered Levi enough to squeal. And there was no stopping Lussuria once he was curious about something; especially matters like this.

"I-I really shouldn't say," Leviathan muttered, leaning back as Lussuria leaned forward, "it's boss's business…"

"So you did see what was inside!" Leviathan squirmed further.

"…. it was red fabric," he said hesitantly, unnerved by the other man's instance, "… and a gun." Bel frowned, leaning back.

"A gun? So it was a threat after all," He murmured, a bit disappointed. He clicked his tongue, "What a letdown." He flicked a knife at Leviathan for good measure, but was stopped by Lussuria's next words.

"So he was making it for someone else!" Lussuria said, clapping his hands again and smiling. The two other assassins looked at him in question. "A few days ago, I walked in on Boss finishing up one of his custom made guns, a set, and so naturally, I asked him about it, since I know it's a hobby, and I was glad to see that he was going back to it after the incident…" he trailed off uncertainly, then picked back up after glossing over the fact, "and so I asked him if he was making it for his collection, and he said no!" Lussuria finished, playing it off as a grand finale. Belphegor made a small 'ah' sound, while Leviathan simple stared.

"….I don't get it." Belphegor scoffed, forcing Leviathan to dodge another knife.

"Idiot," the prince chastised, "there was only one gun in the box. If he made a set, that means he gave one to this person and kept the other. Duh."

"Which means, whoever this person is, that they're important to boss!" Lussuria concluded, then immediately turned on Levi again, "so, then who is it then, Levi?" And they were back to cornering and pressuring Leviathan.

"I-I really shouldn't say…" he tried, leaning back once again. Belphegor snickered, once again spinning a knife between his fingers skillfully.

"I've already wasted two knives on you frivolously, Levi," he warned with a grin (always, always a grin), "and it would be a shame to have to clean blood off of more."

"Levi~" Lussuria cooed, reaching up to cup Leviathan's face, "don't make me force it out of you, hun. You know I will. It's been pretty boring lately with us just waiting, and this is a _great_ distraction. Don't be such a tease, okay?"

And once again, animosity hung in the air and Levi's hand was on a hilt, ready to draw –

"What the fuck are you guys doing just standing in the middle of the fucking hallway?!"

– And the three separated instantly, making way for their commander. Squalo's eyes narrowed and he scowled, looking at the three.

"Levi's squealing about that package boss sent," Bel called out, once again finding humor in throwing the blame (still a child, and having fun playing these dangerous games). Squalo nearly growled, taking a swipe at Levi for good measure before addressing both his sword and tone at all three. Lussuria hummed, looking the other way, as Levi reestablished his position, recovering from where he had dove to wall to avoid Squalo's swipe. Bel stood casual, grinning, grinning, grinning, amused per usual, with the trouble he had stirred.

"Are you fucking hens or something?" Squalo spat, "why the hell is that any of your business, huh? Now, get your asses out of my way! I've got work, you scum. Hell, you guys will too when I get back from slaughtering that brat and getting the rings." And with those words, he pushed through the three and stormed down the hallway.

"Hey, Captain!" Belphegor called out, cupping his hands and calling after Squalo. The man paused, looked back, glaring. "What was that gun supposed to be anyway?" Belphegor asked with another grin. Squalo's eyes barely narrowed, and he turned his head again, stalking out of the hallway, throwing an answer carelessly over his shoulder.

"An invitation."

* * *

Ausiliatrice scrunched her nose, then lifted a finger to scratch it delicately.

"Someone talking about you?" Dino asked, looking over at her with amusement as they walked through the pristine, modern hallway. She gave him a look, only furthering his amusement.

"I didn't sneeze." He shrugged, giving her that.

"Fine. Then someone is _almost_ talking about you." She had the decency to roll her eyes at his statement, causing him to chuckle lowly. Dino nodded again in greeting as people passed them, their eyes lingering on Ausiliatrice far more than the Cavallone boss. Dino voiced this thought as they neared the office.

"You seem popular," he stated casually, taking his hand out of his jacket to open the door for her. Ausiliatrice however, reached the door first, opening it for him instead.

"You seem surprised," she accused flatly. He shrugged again, sending her another lopsided grin, before entering the office of the Vongola's Outside Adviser.

"Dino Cavallone!" Iemitsu greeted, standing from his desk as the two entered the office. The woman, who had been discussing lowly with the adviser, straightened immediately and stepped back, allowing Iemitsu to greet Dino with a hardy handshake and a clap on the back. His expression, which seemed cheery, nearly tightened when his eyes skimmed to Ausiliatrice.

"And Atalanta, I presume?" He asked, nodding a greeting, but making no move towards her. "Please," he moved on when she gave no response, "sit down." Dino sat as suggested. Ausiliatrice, however, stayed standing behind his chair, arms folded and eyes taking in every detail of the room. The other woman moved to the door, securely closing it before moving back to Iemitsu's side, mirroring Ausiliatrice's stance as well.

Dino leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped, serious in this matter without a blunder, knowing it's importance.

"So the rings are on the move?" Dino started, "Isn't a bit too early?" Iemitsu nodded, solemn.

"The ninth has spoken, and his words are absolute," he confirmed, almost anger lacing his tone, a certain tightness holding his words together, "and the Varia is already on the hunt." Now this, this captivated Ausiliatrice's attention. "Which is why," Iemitsu continued, reaching under his desk and retrieving an intricate box; Ausiliatrice recognized the emblem of the Vongola on the top immediately.

"I need you to deliver these to Tsunayoshi," Iemitsu finished, his expression professional and neutral. Dino's eyes immediately narrowed, considering.

"You said that the Varia is already after them, right?"

"Yes," Iemitsu nodded, "but you won't need to worry about them coming after you. My apprentice, as we speak, is being pursued, but is carrying a fake set in order to get the Varia off the ring's trail." Ausiliatrice's eyes barely narrowed at this, focusing on one word. _Apprentice_. Was it someone young then? A child? She frowned and spoke, causing Dino to momentarily falter in his persona and whip around to look at her (an almost pleading, _don't get involved look_ , which Ausiliatrice naturally ignored).

"Does your apprentice know that he is carrying fakes?" She addressed, causing Iemitsu's eyes to snap to her. He nearly hesitated before answering, reviewing her once more, carefully, carefully.

"I assure you, Basil is an extremely competent and able young man-"

"So you sent a _child_ as meat for the Varia to tear into while the real rings are delivered safely?" she accused, her expression twinged with offense, almost anger. Iemitsu's only reaction to her blatant accusation (and blatant disrespect; she could see how Dino paled and leaned back slightly, uncertain of the situation and in which direction it was heading) was in his eyes; a flash of guilt? And then resolve, looking forward, meeting her eyes strongly. The woman next to him however, shifted uncertainly, affected by the suddenly tense air, her hand, Ausiliatrice noticed and knew, moving slightly to the inside of her jacket.

"Oregano," he addressed the woman, "stand down. Your reputation suites you, Atalanta," he nodded to Ausiliatrice once more, "and I'm surprised about your concern for my apprentice. But I assure you, although it was a difficult decision, it was needed. Basil can handle himself. Otherwise," he said with a shrug and a forced smile, a move to ease the tension with a light chuckle, "he wouldn't be my apprentice, now would he?"

Ausiliatrice shifted slightly, retaining her position, arms crossed and looking down on Iemitsu; and then, she let out a soft sigh and looked away.

(but he would be a fool to think that her actions translated as her backing down; he was a young lion too, once)

And Ausiliatrice remained silent, leaving them to negotiations, working out details of transportation and things of those trivial matters, and she did not speak again until she and Dino were in the hallways once again, making their way out of the building.

"That," she asked once they were a safe distance away, her eyes straight ahead but her mind lingering unpleasantly on the man they just met, "is Tsunayoshi's father, isn't it?" Dino's expression was neutral.

"Yeah."

And Ausiliatrice frowned.

* * *

"I think it's a woman."

"What makes you say that?" Belphegor looked over at Lussuria, easily catching the knife he had been throwing above him in the air. Mammon sighed, looking up from their book at the two.

"Are you two still talking about that? It's a waste of money," They tutted, looking back down as they turned another page.

"Because time is money, right baby?" Belphegor snickered, looking over at the illusionist, who was sitting on the table top in order to read and easily handle the large book they were studying. Mammon said nothing in response. Lussuria hummed, taking a sip of his drink before continuing the conversation.

"It's interesting, isn't it," Lussuria mused, moving from his position next to the fireplace and settling in a chair, apposing Belphegor's position, laid out on the couch, "that he sends a gift right after being freed?"

"I still think it could be a threat," Belphegor argued, returning to his early actions, occupying his hands as they listlessly spun the knife in the air and catching, throwing and catching, "Boss is smart. I think it's classy to send someone the twin of the gun that he'll kill them with," he said with a grin, "The prince approves."

"Don't you have a romantic bone in your body, Bel?" Lussuria sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. At this, the prince angled his head towards the older.

"Romantic? Since when did this become romantic?" he asked with a bare scrunch of his nose.

"Boss made those guns, and then immediately gives one to someone else," Lussuria explained, smirking and gesturing lightly with his champagne glass, and then repeated with more confidence, "I think it's a woman. Or a man. _Someone_ that boss is interested in." Belphegor scoffed.

"That's boring," he complained, "You took all the fun out of it." Lussuria sighed, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.

"You're too young to understand _love_ , Bel," he tutted lightly. Belphegor scoffed, then transferred into snickers.

"Says the guy who fucks dead bodies."

" _Language_ , Bel!"

* * *

Atlanta carefully inspected the gun, running gentle fingers over the intricate design of the side; lions. Fierce and proud and dangerous, stilled to attack while maintaining grace.

"The ancient Greeks," Ausiliatrice said, not looking up from the gun as Dino, sitting next to her, looked up from inspecting the ring box, "believed that lions could not mate with their own species. Only leopards. There's a story of Atalanta, where she and a lover were turned into lions after being caught in a temple of Zeus. Another version states that it was Aphrodite, spited because they did not give her proper honor. It was a punishment for them, to not be able to have sex with the other. I never understood the consequence," she finished, her brows furrowed slightly. She then shifted, putting the gun in a halter on her hip.

"You're talkative," Dino claimed, "Which is weird. Something bothering you?"

"Iemitsu Sawada," she said, propping her head with her hand as she leaned her elbow on the armrest, her head angled towards the window of the plane. The soft chatter of Dino's men around them softened the silence between the two before Ausiliatrice spoke again. "Do you think he knows what Tsunayoshi has just gone through?"

"You mean with the jail break and Mukuro Rokudo?" Dino clarified, furrowing his eyebrows. He shifted as well, crossing his arms, "I mean, I'm sure he knows. He's the outside adviser after all. Ah, well, he's also Tsuna's dad," he added as almost an afterthought. Ausiliatrice sighed, focusing on her own likeness, staring into her own eyes. Abyssal, even when diluted by reflection.

"That's not what I asked." Dino frowned at this, further confused. Ausiliatrice however, was elsewhere. In Namimori, thinking of Nana. Ah, she thought, now it made sense.

"You could just talk to him yourself, you know," Dino suggested, "since he _is_ in the other cabin." Ausiliatrice snorted, irritated that he would even bring the fact up.

"He annoys me."

"Really?" Dino nearly huffed, "I couldn't tell."

"They don't know, do they." It was a clear statement, veiled in the structure of a question. Dino frowned once more.

"I think he doesn't want to worry them," Dino defended. Ausiliatrice snorted at this.

"His son is about to become the new king of the underworld," Ausiliatrice shot back, "finding out his father is already involved is the least of Tsunayoshi's worries… but Nana," she trailed off, thinking back to the kind woman's knowledgeable ignorance, how she blocks things out with awareness, "… they deserve better."

And Dino remained silent, his absence of words translating as agreement.

Where these types, these absent fathers, dead mothers, parents torn away from child, children starving on their own, these were normal in their lifestyle, weren't they? And what did that make them?

The lucky ones, she realized, her eyes shifting and examining Dino's reflection. The ones who filled the absence with their own resolution.

"Fathers like that," Ausiliatrice murmured, causing Dino to glance over her once again, "they're normal in this life, aren't they?" Dino sighed, leaning to the side, glancing at the door leading to the next cabin, then back at the box in his lap.

"Yeah," he said, not having to ask what 'life' she was talking about (of blood, family, the life he was born into and the throne he was expected and forced to take; but oh, Tsunayoshi's throne was much more impressive, but made for a bigger fall), "they are. Even if they're not gone."

(At least, she thought, even turned into lions, the lovers were not separated completely. For that, is the worst consequence of all)

(she should know best)

* * *

Squalo's eyes widened in surprise as a foot came down with enough strength to knock his sword off course, sending the blow into a building to their side instead of hitting his original target. He glanced up, meeting impossibly abyssal eyes –

and moved to retreat, putting distance between them immediately. He reviewed her, noticing offhandedly as the boy he had been pursuing dragged the other aside; his eyes narrowed, seeing a glimpse of the box, but then immediately moved back to the bigger threat standing between him and the object he needed.

"Hey," he drawled out, grinning wickedly, "long time no see, right? You haven't changed at all…" his eyes wandered, catching a glint on her hip. His grin widened, seeing a chance: "I see that you got boss's gift, huh?"

And that moment of confusion, he went forward again, ensuing a back and forth once more. Her speed, he noted with annoyance, he couldn't win against, but could keep up with as she blocked and parried with bayonets (but not shooting at him, _why wasn't she shooting at him_?). And he realized with exhilaration that this was the first time fighting her,

but he had a job to do, unfortunately, and could not savor this moment as it should be.

And they separated again, him arching back from her swing.

"You're the same as ever, Suberbi Squalo." And his eye twitched, keeping his body facing her, but allowing his eyes to look over at another annoyance. "Isn't it embarrassing being rough on kids?"

"Bucking Horse…" Squalo growled, his eyes going back to Atalanta, still standing between him and his objective.

( _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , both of them against him, huh?)

"You really think you could handle both of us being your opponent?" Dino asked, vocalizing Squalo's thoughts. Instead, Squalo put up a confident front.

"I have no problem killing you right here, Bucking Horse," He addressed, gesturing with his sword, "but if I fight with allied families, the higher ups will be nagging me…" he trailed off, looking again past Ausiliatrice, where both the Italian (already heavily injured, _weak_ ) and the Japanese brat (even weaker, _pathetic_ ) were staring at the new arrivals with surprise and awe.

"For today I'll quietly..." Squalo began, moving slightly, as if to leave, but instead swung upwards, releasing his explosives and creating a smokescreen, "not go home!" Although getting nicked, barely avoiding Atalanta as she attempted to keep her barricade, he managed to get past her, roughly grabbing the Japanese boy by the hair and tugging him upwards. He sneered at the child, and then glanced behind him. Throwing the boy at Atalanta, gave one more solid kick to the Italian brat before making his escape, box in hand. Atalanta easily caught the younger boy, stopping in her pursuit to do so, leaving Squalo time to flee.

"For your sake, I'll leave their lives in your hands," he called back over his shoulder, holding up his prize for their viewing pleasure, "but I'll take this!" But he nearly hesitated as he retreated –

Why wasn't she pursuing, why wasn't she shooting? Why was she staying behind, not hot on his heels, not easily catching up to him as he knew she easily could?

(Why was she even fighting for, fighting _with_ such trash in the first place?)

And Squalo nearly growled, and moved on, completing his mission but doing so with an uneasy feeling.

(Varia Quality indeed)

* * *

"The fuck – shut it, you shitty boss, who the hell do you think I am?!" Squalo yelled into the phone, walking briskly to the jet prepared for him, Vongola Rings safely tucked under his arm as he held the phone with his one hand, "of course I got the fucking rings! Hell yeah, I'm on the way back now, you shit!"

He growled, grinding his teeth as he listened to the few words his boss graced him with, rethinking those years he waited for this man who now berated him and cursed at him constantly.

(Ah, but he didn't regret, no, he never regretted pledging his allegiance to this man even once)

"Listen, shut the fuck up for a second – the fuck I can't tell you what to do, I've been covering for your ass for the last eight years! Listen!" he snapped again, and grew more serious as his boss allowed him to speak.

"She was wearing the gun," he said, pausing at the top of the steps, pausing before entering the jet fully, "but she was fighting for them."

(Two lions could never be together; but oh, what an ancient belief that was)

* * *

 _"They used to call the devil the father of lies. But for someone whose is meant to be pride, you'd think that lying would leave something of a sour taste. So my theory is that when the devil wants to get something out of you, he doesn't lie at all. He tells you the exact, literal truth. And he lets you find your own way to Hell."_

 ** _-Mike Carley (Mr. Easterman: Lucifer #10: Children and Monsters)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Ah, I love Squalo so much. Actually, I love the Varia in general. And I updated, because all your lovely reviews inspired me, and I can not wait to write this arc. Also, it's fun writing Ausil getting annoyed. Fun, fun, fun._

 ** _Remember to review/message me with questions you want to ask Ausiliatrice in the short!_** _I want to give you guys something cute, but I need questions from you guys first! It can be anything, really, even more serious stuff, or something trivial!_

 ** _Review Responses:_**

 _ **Guest:** Aw, I'm glad that you thought last chapter was your favorite! And yaass, cold weather is great. I like snow when's it's fresh and crisp, but I don't like how it gets muddy and ugly as it melts. That's not fun. And I feel you about climate change; it's October, and it's supposed to be way colder here than it is. Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest:** Haha, glad you liked how long the chapter was~ Thanks for the love and the review! I'm looking forward to writing future chapter as well_

 _ **Lazy af:** Lmao. I did, and I will continue to leave my readers hanging. It gives me life. Glad you liked the long chapter! And don't worry, Reborn's reasoning will be revealed eventually. And everyone seems to be missing Mateus, huh? Too bad he's dead. Thanks for the review! _

_**weaver yk:** I can't wait to write Ausil reacting with the Varia, or really, just the Varia in general. And I've also enjoyed Dino and Ausil getting closer. Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest27:** Haha, man, Ausiliatrice would either handle the Varia craziness very well, kill them all, or decided that handling them was entirely Squalo's problem (most likely that last choice, knowing her and how she handles the craziness in Namimori). Aw, and how you picture Ausil and Xanxus is adorable. And thanks so much for the praise! Glad you enjoy my writing and thanks so much for the review!_

 ** _Question:_**

 ** _Favorite fanfciton that you've read that you can think of/what attracts you to stories/what makes stories your favorite?_**

 _Off the top of my head, one that comes to mind when I think of some of the best I've read (damn, there are so many good ones out there) is one that I've actually already mentions, which is **Mafia Ever After by Luki Dimension**. Another really good one is T **he Princess by MrsRegulusBlack123**. What really attracts me to stories is good characterization and strong relationships, which kind of goes hand in hand? Anyway, both of the stories mentioned have those, and those are just two favorites in particular that I thought of immediately. **The Bloody Boys** , also by Luki Dimension is another one that comes to mind. Ah, I have so many favorites, just go see my list and have fun browsing. (I also have a weird thing for Harry Potter and Reborn! Crossovers? Harry Potter and anything crossovers really)_

 _-Evenly_


	18. Lesson 18: To Play

**Lesson 18: Her Mother Taught Her To Play**

* * *

 _"Most species_

 _Bare their teeth_

 _As a threat_

 _As a display of aggression_

 _Of leadership_

 _It is a reminder_

 _That these jaws_

 _Can and will_

 _Open your_

 _Yielding throat_

 _I want you to think of this_

 _The next time I smile."_

 ** _-b.p._**

* * *

Ausiliatrice viewed the young boy with a neutral expression; around her, the men talked and blabbered and informed, but this fell mute to her ears, already well aware of this information being passed to Tsunayoshi and not caring much for it. But what she did care about?

Her hand moved carefully, delicately, almost hesitantly, and then softly brushed a hair away from Basil's face. She only spoke after Tsuna had made his escape, reluctant to take his mantle, and rightly so.

"Squalo was playing with him," Ausiliatrice said with a frown, her eyes on Basil's serene and sleeping face (she was keenly aware of Reborn in the room, her father watching her and evaluating, and vice versa, vice versa), "he could have finished this kid off easy before he got anywhere near Japan. But," she said sighing a bit, "he allowed the kid to lead him here out of curiosity."

It's killed far more than just house pets, she thought sourly, once again looking at the young boy's injuries.

"He…" Dino said with a sigh, running a hand through is hair, "should have just given these directly to Tsuna," he relented handing off the box for Romario to hold, "he came to Japan with us, you know?"

"I see… so he came?" Reborn muttered. And Ausiliatrice could see it, Iemitsu in Nana Sawada's home, laughing heartily, eating her meals, laying out in her kitchen, playing lightly in this false obliviousness. And Nana Sawada would smile and hum and laugh and act happy to see her dear husband once again. But Ausiliatrice, in this vision, could clearly see what Iemitsu would miss, willingly: the tautness of the smile, the glitch before laughing, genuinely happy, but still repressing her distress over lies and lies and lies;

both playing off an air of obliviousness. Ah, perhaps they were a perfect couple then? But what did that mean for the product of their love, where did Tsunayoshi fit into this falsehood of happiness?

Her eyes drifted from Basil to the box of rings in Romario's hands. She frowned.

"We're sending children off to war, who have never even had nightmares of this concept," She muttered sadly. The men of the room, reminded of her presence, which had been muted (but not forgotten, never forgotten) by their own conversations, they had no answer to her remark, only sad frowns; sad, but entirely accepting. And she sighed, and closed her abyssal eyes.

Tired.

"Where are you going?" Reborn asked when she rose and went to the door. She paused, looking glancing down at him, hand on the open doorway. She lifted her chin slightly, her lips barely quirking.

"To go train my own."

"Ah, Reborn says yours is a difficult one, right?" Dino asked with a small smile, breaking the eye contact between Reborn and Ausiliatrice. He motioned to Romario, who opened the box for him. Ausiliatrice easily caught the small object tossed at her.

"Don't forget to give him this, right?" He reminded her as she inspected it, recognizing half of a Cloud symbol.

"Trust me," she muttered, her eyes drifting back to Dino, and then, distinctly to Reborn (perhaps to draw offense; but it felt right, this jab she was making), "I was the same at his age. It's nothing," she said, backing out and then turning, being sure to retain eye contact with her father, "that I can't handle."

"Thank you," Reborn called out, almost curtly, "for doing this, Ausiliatrice." And she paused, keeping her body turned away from him.

And she left without another word.

* * *

Hibari Kyoya's head snapped up, his eyes immediately regarding his front door. Laying down his book, he carefully retrieved his tonfas from his side, wary of the stranger on the other side. But ah, it wasn't a stranger at all, was it?

"Nice place," she greeted, abyssal eyes meeting steel. Pale lips barely quirked while dark remained neutral. He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter, his body thrumming with energy upon seeing the older woman, animosity secreting from every pore in the young man's body. But, knowing to wait; after all, that had been lesson number one, had it not?

(Because she knew how to wait, and she was the best to teach others the art of it)

"I'm surprised, carnivore," he addressed, watching intently as she placidly reviewed the interior of his home, stopping and inspecting the old art on the walls, "that you would come to me. Excited to be bitten to death?"

"I told you to call me, Ausiliatrice," she said, without looking at him, "Do you speak Mandarin?" She asked suddenly in the same language. He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Family relations, then?" She guessed correctly, and then swiftly, tossed an object to him. Hibari Kyoya caught it easily, noticing the flash of silver and then inspecting the ring once it was in his hand. He raised a single, elegant eyebrow. She turned, crossed her arms, face still neutral, not giving away an ounce of emotion. Finally, she spoke:

"I'm here to train you on my accord," she told him firmly, him immediately and nearly scoffing at the notion, "and that?" she said, eyes glancing down at the ring, "I'm merely helping out the kids."

"Whoever said that I needed your help?" He nearly snarled, tossing the ring back to her. Her lips barely tugged, and she caught it easily, keeping her hand slightly extended from her body.

"We're the same kind," she said truthfully, "and besides, heard that you got curb-stomped by someone else other than me."

And with that statement, his eyes burned and he bared his weapons and he emitted an almost guttural snarl;

Hibari Kyoya was done with waiting; but ah, Ausiliatrice was just getting started with her lessons.

* * *

It wasn't that she did not see Hibari Kyoya as a child; no, he still was to her, still a young predator, or carnivore, as he so devotedly referred. But not all children need the same kind of protection, and her form of protection for him?

Naturally, to beat the shit out of him in hopes of him learning. And it would work, she knew, because this was the only way to get through to him, to teach or direct such a force of nature. After all, she was the same, exactly so, and this was how the younger version of her learned. This was how she became who she was today.

If she were teaching any of the other children involved, certainly, she would not use the same methods. Everyone was unique, everyone reacts differently and learns just as. She was the same kind as Hibari Kyoya, and therefore was the best suited to teach him. She knew this, as did Reborn.

(and in a way, he was using her, wasn't he? To develop one of Tsunayoshi's guardians, to inevitably make his job of carving Tsunayoshi to be a great boss easier, and in the same lineage of thought, do the same with the guardians of the tenth generation? But ah, wasn't she using him in a way as well, to easily gain access to help this boy who was so much like her? Either way, she would reach this small predator, with or without Reborn's consent)

She paused before knocking on the door, looking down at the sleeves of her jacket. Speckles of blood, if just a small amount, freckled the leather (usually, she was not so sloppy, but she supposed that she had become caught up in the fun of the light spar). She frowned, taking off she jacket to reveal bare shoulders, inverted it, and threw it casually over her shoulders before knocking the door.

"Ausiliatrice!" Nana Sawada greeted happily, opening the door. She immediately took to ushering the other woman in, leading her to the warm kitchen. "How nice of you to visit! Are you and Dino back in town then?"

"For an unaddressed amount," Ausiliatrice replied to Nana's question of how long their stay was.

"Tsuna and Reborn haven't returned yet," she told the younger woman casually, "but my husband actually just came in town today!" And at this, Ausiliatrice gave a small dip her head, and a small hum of acknowledgement. And immediately upon entering the kitchen, she made a point to meet the eyes of Iemitsu Sawada. She made a point to smile politely at Nana as the woman led to her to an open seat, smiling blindly for the entire exchange and then returned to the counters.

Ausiliatrice bared her teeth, smiling with them as opposed to her usually, closed lipped courtesy.

"You must be Nana's husband," she greeted the man across from her smoothly, looking over and nodding as Ipin gestured up. Ausiliatrice reached down, situating the young girl comfortably in her lap, before looking back once more at Iemitsu. Despite his peaceful expression and lax smile, his body was tense, his aura repressed, but unsure.

"I'm Ausiliatrice, a friend of your wife's." A second, almost a flinch, and he laughed heartily and responded:

"Iemitsu Sawada! A pleasure," he said with the barest narrowing of his eyes, "to meet you." And Ausiliatrice hummed again. She turned head, smiling once more as Futa excitedly entered the room and spotted her, addressing Bianchi with a slight nod (ignoring how the woman's eyes lit up, Ausiliatrice was going to file that away for now), and allowed Iemitsu to play at figuring her out.

Was she sending a threat? Oh no, she was just having fun.

(if she were threatening him, believe her, he would be well aware and far more terrified)

And sending a message. After all, a predator was adept at driving their prey in a corner, in more ways that just physically doing so.

(She made a note, mentally, to relay this lesson to Hibari; what fun _that_ will be)

* * *

"If you're looking for Iemitsu," Ausiliatrice called, drying her hands with a cloth provided happily by Nana, "he's already asleep." She turned, just in time to see Tsunayoshi jump in reaction to her unexpected presence.

"Ah, Ausiliatrice," Dino said, leaning in the doorway behind Tsuna, "you're here, huh?"

"Ausiliatrice has been such a help around the house," Nana cooed, putting a hand on her cheek. Ausiliatrice dipped her head politely in acknowledgement.

"We can finish cleaning up, Mama," Reborn chirped, hopping up to the table top. And they replied justly and courtly at Nana's thanks and soft remarks. And once she was out of the room an upstairs?

"How is training going with yours, Ausil- ack!" Dino rightly shot back and rubbed his offended forehead. Ausiliatrice nearly sighed, leaning back in her seat from where she had to reach in order to poke him harshly.

"You're training someone too, Ausiliatrice?" Tsuna asked, surprised and looking over at her from his reluctant seat next to the woman.

"He's taken the ring," she said, thinking back to where she simply put the ring in his bloodied hand and walked away, "and seems to have accepted me as his tutor."

"Hibari's a difficult one," Reborn agreed, "which is why I was either going to send you or Dino to rein him in." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm not here to _control_ him," she nearly snapped, clearly offended. Reborn quelled, the air between them growing rigid.

"You're training Hibari?!" Tsuna shrilled, breaking this connection.

"Trust me, better her than me," Dino said with a laugh, leaning over to clap Tsuna's shoulder, "after all, while she's dealing with that problem child, then I can help you right?"

"I guess…" Tsuna mumbled weakly, twiddling with his hands. On edge, Ausiliatrice noticed with a frown. Stressed and worried.

"You should go to bed, Tsuna," Reborn addressed his student, "after all, you still have more training to do tomorrow." Tsuna sighed, slumping and grumbled before rising out of his chair.

"Don't remind me…"

Ausiliatrice watched the young boy exit, listening as Reborn and Dino talked of their future plans for the young Decimo's training. She frowned, and then rose, causing the two to look over at her.

"I'll leave you men to your talk," she said before exiting. She nearly hesitated before knocking on the door upstairs. It would be an understatement to say that Tsunayoshi was surprised to see her. It would be more accurate to entail that he nearly squeaked upon opening the door and finding the tall woman there.

"C-can I help you?"

"I'd like to ask you something," she said calmly, "if you're comfortable with me doing so."

Tsuna hesitated, reviewing the woman, almost taken back by how polite she was. But then, he recalled the delicacy of how she handled Futa, along with the other children that ran rampant around his house. He recalled how her mother seemed so fond of the intimidating woman, and then he realized that he didn't know this woman at all.

"Yeah, sure," he said, a lot calmer than he, himself expected him to be.

"I want you know," She said once he had seated himself on his bed, growing a bit red, realizing how messy his room was, "that I too…. have experience with absent fathers." He blinked, looking up at her suddenly. He reviewed her expression, for once, not entirely stoic. She looked to be thinking as well. She gestured down at his bed in question, and he quickly nodded. She sat, with enough distance to be comfortable, with enough distance to be welcoming.

"Why… how can you tell?" He asked carefully, frowning. Feelings, emotions that he had pushed back and masked with misunderstanding and annoyance; these were resurfacing with such few words.

"I want you to know that you're not alone," she said, looking over at him. "And I don't want to you end up like me."

"Like you?" He asked confused, "What do you mean?" Instead, she changed the subject, if just by a degree.

"When Yamamoto visited Italy," she moved on, "he would often talk about you and Gokudera Hayato. Even then, he considered you his family. You have something concrete to fight for, Tsunayoshi," she concluded, looking him the eyes, "you know this, don't you?"

"You and Reborn say the same thing," and she nearly laughed lightly at this, "and Dino too…" Tsunayoshi went on, "you talk about family all the time, and say that's it on me to protect them." And Ausiliatrice frowned at this and made quick to correct him.

"Don't put that weight on yourself, Tsunayoshi," she told him, almost harshly, "especially if you are not ready to bare it." She then sobered slightly, seeing his expression.

"The world you are about to enter… it is cruel," she began, shifting slightly, her eyes moving to look out the window. Tsunayoshi's eyes widened, and then, his face scrunched. He looked to the floor, as if in thought. And then, his face rose, and she turned and he met her eyes,

and perhaps for a moment, there was a flicker. They burned, but softly. Lovingly, determined.

"Why…? It," he paused, the reaffirmed, "it doesn't have to be, does it?"

She stared down at the boy, the child (so young, so young), soon to be king of a world that surely would not welcome him. But neither would he be accepting of it.

All her life, Ausiliatrice had always been an adapter. A survivor. But not once did she fight for a bigger change. But looking into Tsunayoshi's eyes?

Her lips barely parted, and for a moment, Tsuna could only watch as she stared at him in thought, beautiful and serene even when lost in her own abyssal mind, and he in her abyssal eyes. And then, a soft smile, the bare tug of her lips.

He flinched when she moved, and she adhered to this, waiting for him. But then, he realized, he knew, he sensed, she meant no harm,

and she waited until he allowed her hand to rest gently on his cheek.

"Perhaps, Tsunayoshi..." she said softly, "You are young. Perhaps you are this change." She nearly hesitated with her next action, but it seemed right. In place. She leaned forward, and pressed her lips softly against his forehead. He blinked blankly as she retreated, and then blushed heavily. She smiled at this, amused, and rose to make her exit. She turned at the door, making eye contact with him once more.

"If you ever need to talk," Ausiliatrice said before leaving, her words leaving hesitantly (how should she deal with this? How could she help? But ah, ah, ah, nothing would happen if she did not reach out), "you don't need to be… hesitant."

And then black eyes left brown.

* * *

Red eyes narrowed angrily, scrutinizing the man before him.

"What do you mean she didn't go after you?" Xanxus growled lowly, focusing his attention on his second instead of the open box of rings.

"The fuck do you think I mean?" Squalo snapped back, "I said _she didn't fucking chase_." Expression still stone, Xanxus leaned back slightly in his chair. Considering.

He closed his eyes momentarily, and in that one moment, he put himself in her position.

(after all, they were alike, weren't they? He knew, he knew, _he knew_ from the moment he saw her, _they were the same_ )

His mind's eyes snapped open and he reviewed the scene. A destroyed shopping place. Rubble and debris scattered courtesy of Squalo, blood splattered courtesy of his sword, spilled from that piece of trash Advisor's piece of shit apprentice. He saw Squalo throw a screen, he saw himself try to block him but barely miss –

and he saw Squalo escape, knowing full well that he would have gone after the scum. He would never leave a hunt unfinished and neither would _she_.

So what was her purpose for doing just that?

A moment. And then red eyes snapped open once more, immediately moving to the open box of rings. Squalo watched, silent and curiously as Xanxus picked one half up, half the sky ring, his supposed birthright –

and Squalo yelled out as Xanxus easily shattered it.

"They're fakes," Xanxus said, pushing himself up in one fluid movement and going to the door, (not angry like Squalo thought he would be, not furious like he had expected), "get those pieces of shit ready; we're leaving for Japan now."

(He supposed he just had something else to thank her for, didn't he?)

* * *

Language had never been Mateus's forte. Ironically enough, it was Ausiliatrice's specialty, despite how much he talked, despite how much she preferred not to. But her reason for being so fluent was not because of the words that flowed from her own lips, but the words that so foolishly tumbled out the mouths of those around her. That being said, she held tact for those that were skilled eavesdroppers, and held no blame to them unless they were shameful enough to get caught.

But both she and Reborn were well aware of their roles in the conversation she just had with Tsunayoshi.

"What's your play?" He asked her carefully, as she joined him on the roof.

"I'm no house cat, if that's what you're suggesting," she replied back.

"You have no stake in this," and hearing these words almost caused her to flinch involuntarily, "so why help? Why talk to Tsuna, why threaten Iemitsu-"

"That wasn't threatening, and you know it," she called out. Reborn barely smirked.

"I thought you said you weren't a house cat," he recalled, "and here you are playing with him like a mouse." And she hesitated, then allowed her lips to form into the shape of a small smirk, nearly mirroring her father's.

"What do you want, Reborn?"

(And here, he held back a flinch as well, but he doesn't know why, he doesn't know why)

"I want to know what the intention of your conversation was with my student."

"You heard," she accused with a small shrug, "and I consider myself to be a rather straight forward woman." A pause, and then:

"I wanted him to realize he wasn't alone. That's all."

And Reborn hummed and nodded. Simple acknowledgement, masking annoyance with not understanding, not seeing this woman clearly (not knowing his own _daughter_ , and her intentions). And she stretched her arms behind her head and folded them.

"I'll be hunting around Namimori as usual," she relayed to him, "there's bound to be more meat considering things will be getting... exciting," she said the word with quip, "in the next few days. So you won't have to worry about breaches."

"Not with you around, I suppose," he answered back, causing her to barely look over at her. Consideration, and then she spoke before jumping down.

"If you even get lonely, I'm sure Iemitsu would love to talk."

And she was gone after that clear jab, leaving her father nearly shocked (because he did not become _shocked_ , he was _never_ caught off guard). And he frowned, nearly scowling.

(it seems, he thought with distaste, that she had found another mouse to play with)

(but oh, she was more than just a house cat, and so was he)

* * *

"Boss…. is acting weird, right?"

"Honestly," Belphegor drawled from his seat, arms folding behind his head as he lazily reclined, "I'd thought he'd be more pissed about that Adviser trying to pull that shit with the fake rings off." His attention, however, drifted from Lussaria and to their second-in-command. Oddly quiet, he noticed with a grin and snicker, head leaning on hand, propped on armrest and eyes to the window.

"You're awfully quiet, _Captain_ ," Belphegor addressed. Squalo's eyes jerked away from the window, a scowl over taking his earlier, thoughtful expression.

"And what's it to you, scum?" He spat, giving Belphegor a warning look.

"I'm just guessing," The prince drawled, lying back in a comfortable position, "that you being quiet and boss being weird, is connected right? And it's also connected to that weird package. So I'm guessing that whoever Boss sent that gun to is in Japan, right?" Squalo's eyes narrowed, but then he clicked his tongue, turning his eyes back to the window.

"Fucking cheeky brat," he muttered.

"Prodigy~" Bel corrected, but quelled into quiet snickers when Squalo's eyes snapped back to him, nearly growling.

"So that means that we get to meet this mysterious person?" Lussaria said, almost dream-like as he too leaned back, "it'll be interesting to see what kind of person has caught our boss's attention."

"I swear," Mammon muttered from their seat, "you're all a bunch of school girls. You never focus on what really matters."

"Always about the money, aren't you, Mammon?" Lussaria tutted, looking over at the illusionist. They grumbled in response, deeming the conversation a waste to comment a second time. "But you do know who it is, don't you, Squalo?"

"Fuck off," he snapped, sneering.

"You're no fun, Squalo!" Lussaria cried, turning to look at their commanding officer, "you could at least give us something, to pass time at least?"

"Yeah, Captain," Bel added, "we're bored enough, with such an easy job of slaughtering these brats. At least give us some entertainment."

"You're fucking kids, both of you," Squalo snapped, growing more and more irritated with their insistence, but having enough sense to know that they were bored enough to pester him and would _continue_ to do so (he sore, he was too old for this shit, and _dammit_ he was only 22). He sighed, running his hand down his face in irritation.

"She's…" he started, struggling for the right word, "and old acquaintance."

A moment, and then:

"So _it_ is a woman!"

"I swear to fucking God, I will slice both of you to pieces if I hear one more word of this, fucking scum!"

* * *

"Why…" Hibari spat out blood, some more dribbling from his busted lip. She hummed, flicking the small bit of blood from her hands. "Why don't you use your weapons?" She blinked, then glanced down, following his line of sight to her hips.

"These," she said placing the hands on the holsters, almost hesitantly over the left, "aren't my guns. _These_ ," she said, turning and lifting her hair, revealing the two guns strapped to her upper back, always covered by her long and voluminously hair, "are mine."

"Why?" He asked again, clearly irritated and standing fully once more, once again holding his own weapons up, "are you not using them against me?" He was offended, clearly, but Ausiliatrice thought nothing of it.

"Rude…" she tutted lightly, causing a flash of irritation. The boy ran forward once more, and she easily took him down once more; a harsh kick to his back, sending him tumbling into the fence. He clutched it, his fingers intertwining with the metal, keeping his body from falling completely. He managed to turn himself, still leaning heavily on the fence. A breath. And then he stood fully, as if not injured, as if she weren't beating him repeatedly.

"And I even allowed you to choose our training ground for today," she said, looking around once more at the school roof. He scoffed at this, spitting out more blood before holding his head high again.

"Bullets," she said, answering his early question, "are meant to kill. And that's not my intention with you. I won't use my guns when training you, not because I don't have the skill to shoot without killing," she said, almost a warning against underestimation, "but because I want you to realize the importance of adaption; don't grow comfortable with a single weapon, Kyoya," she warned, narrowing her eyes slightly, "because there will always come a time where what you find comfortable will be ripped from you. You're similar," she said, a slight raise of her head, "so prove it to me."

His eyes widened slightly, and then reverted. He squared off, and dashed forward again, and Ausiliatrice prepared and went through the same motions of smashing his body into the ground;

only in this go, he let go of both his weapons, one hand going for her hair and pulling her toward the heel of his palm as it too came forward,

and the moment after she felt his hand connect to her skin, she grabbed his wrists and jerked his body towards her incoming knee, hitting him in the temple easily. She stepped back as his body crumpled. She blinked, and lifted her hand to her lip. Gently touching it, and looking at the small drip of red on her fingers from the contact.

And she grinned.

* * *

She nodded thanks to Tetsuya Kusakabe as he handed her the mug of freshly brewed coffee.

"Cousins?" She reaffirmed.

"Second cousins, actually," the younger man corrected, "we have been aiding the Hibari's with protecting Namimori for… well for as long as the Hibari's have protected Namimori."

"So it's his mother who is Chinese," she guessed, looking over at the unconscious boy, recently patched up from their earlier spar. Kusakabe barely hesitated before nodding.

"Yes… that's right."

"It's honorable," she noted almost quietly, "what his family does. What you do as well," she said, nodding towards Kusakabe. He looked over at, from where he had moved across the room.

"Stick by him, please," she said with a soft smile, looking once again at the boy, looking rather peaceful as he lay on the couch across from her, "people like us…." she trailed off, as if thinking of someone in particular.

"We need common sense, like you."

(It was times like this when she missed him the most)

* * *

Dino let out a whistle as he and Romario entered through the doorway of the roof.

"God, Ausil – liatrice," he added hastily, seeing her head whip to him in warning, "you're not supposed to maim him, you know?" She jutted her chin.

"He can take it."

"I didn't say we could stop," Hibari called out, glaring at the new arrival who dared to distract his opponent and stall their fight.

"Easy, easy," Dino said, laughing lightly going to stand by Ausiliatrice as Romario went to the side of the roof (introducing himself to Kusakabe, Ausiliatrice noticed), "I'm Dino, a friend of Reborn's and Ausiliatrice's – "

"My charge I babysit," Ausiliatrice corrected. Dino took on an offended front.

"Ouch. And I thought that I could take a break from helping Tsuna and visit," he said, putting a hand over his heart.

"You're here to see my student," she corrected him further.

"I'm _not_ ," Hibari snarled, "your student. And you _aren't_ my teacher, carnivore."

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected with a slight frown.

"Wow," Dino whistled again, "he is a tough one, isn't he?" He looked over at Ausiliatrice only to find her attention on the screen of her phone. He blinked, surprised by the slight smile on her lips.

"Kyoya," she called, not bothering to look up, "your tonfas have modifications, don't they?" She asked suddenly. "Use them." She paused, and then looked over at Dino. "Against him," she added with an slight indication of her head. The two blinked, then stared.

"What?" Dino said flatly. Ausiliatrice simply turned, her heels clicking as she neared the door. Hibari snarled, seeing his opponent walking away and rushed forward. Dino scrambled, barely managing to block the kid's tonfa when he realized that she wasn't going to block it herself, securing it for a moment while he turned his head to address her.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving," she threw back simply over her shoulder. He grimaced, moving back, allowing the kid's attack to break through and then blocked again, holding him in place.

"Leaving? Wait, are you just going to leave me here with this kid?" Dino called out, paling slightly, seeing the malevolent look in Hibari's eyes.

"Kyoya," she said smoothly, pausing before she reached the door, typing a reply into her phone, "consider Dino as an interim."

"As long as I have someone to bite to death," Kyoya said, breaking away again, viewing Dino in a new light. Dino swallowed hard, noticing a new glint in the boy's eye, "then I don't really care as long as you come back to face me."

"You can't just throw me to him like a piece of meat!" Dino complained, almost whining as Romario chuckled on the side lines, looking up from his conversation with Kusakabe. "Where are you even going?" She answered easily, her words surprisingly him entirely.

"A date."

* * *

"I bought last time," She said, gesturing at her drinking partner with her own, "it's on you this time."

"Last time was a free bar," Shamal reminded her. She shrugged, taking a shot easily.

"Counts." He grumbled, putting more money down on the bar.

"Only because you're a beautiful woman," he relented. She hummed lightly in response. "How's your student, by the way? You got a troublesome one, didn't you?"

"So did you," she shot back. He shrugged, then lightly waved her off.

"Hayato's not too bad," he relented, "a brat with a temper and a bad mouth, but I wasn't any better at his age."

"I could say the same about mine," Ausiliatrice quipped. Shamal scrunched his nose at this.

"Yours is a beast," he complained, "laid it on me a few times, you know. Had to sic one of my mosquito's on him. I mean, Reborn got me to give him the antidote, but still. A troublesome guy, really," he finished with a sigh. Ausiliatrice lingered on the thought of her father for a moment. But then, she decided to let it go.

"Do you think yours will be ready?" She asked quietly, growing serious. Shamal reflected this.

"For the Varia?" He scoffed, "Hell no. The only one who might stand a chance is your kid. But even then…" she understood his words without them being said.

"That old man… the Ninth, Iemitsu," she said, "they know what they're doing."

"Sending kids to their death…" Shamal agreed, and then asked, "But I'll ask you this; when did you kill your first man?" She quieted, looking over at him, almost offended as she easily saw the direction he was going.

"Six."

"Ten," he responded, "You the see theme? So what point is there to help these kids, huh?" Ausiliatrice sighed, motioning for another shot. It was quickly placed in front of her.

"Says the man who's also volunteering as a tutor," she said before taking it. Shamal's expression remained blank, and then; a cough of laughter. He took his own shot, and relented.

"Yeah, you got me there."

And then, at that moment, they both felt it:

an immense killer intent. Ausiliatrice stood suddenly, finding her hand going to hip; to her left, to her _gift_.

"Dammit," Shamal breathed out, and then slammed his small glass down, repeating, "Dammit! They're already here – Oi, Ausiliatrice!"

He ran after her, hastily throwing money on the bar and then ducking under the banner. She stopped, turning her head back already a good ways down the road.

"Where are you going?" He asked her, looking to see her guns (the ones she kept on her back, he recognized) already in her hands.

"To draw lines," she said easily, and then added,

"and to make them aware just whose hunting grounds they're intruding on."

* * *

 _AN:_

 _You guys are going to hate me so fucking much, but I'm going to leave it right there (because I really need to go to sleep and do, like ALL of my homework tomorrow). I swear, there will be more Varia next chapter. I'm so amused with how salty Ausil is getting, though._

 _I think I might put the little fun game show thing either next chapter, or the one after so **please keep sending in questions for Ausiliatrice! Seriously, these can be anything.**_

 _ **Also:** would anyone be interested in me doing a few "alternate universe" chapters, like doing one on how things would go if Mateus have never died, a soul mate Au, things like that? These definitely would not be until after the series had ended, naturally, at least for most, but I was wondering it you guys would be interested. _

**_Review Response:_**

 ** _note: sorry if I haven't responded to some of your reviews from last chapter, but fanfiction isn't showing the reviews and only notifying me about them through email, and so I can't respond to them yet. I'm going to wait it out for a little while, but I'll answer back as soon as I can._**

 ** _Lazy meh Nah:_** Haha, I'll be sure to try and check out "Slip Up" . And yeah, Mateus is definitely missed by a lot, and will continued to be mentioned (because deaths never really go away). And, my friend, I have received so many comments about shipping, which are all very humorous to me. Also, your "they would destroy the Varia in less than a day" comment made me laugh. Also, the ship names were also amusing. Keep working on that for me, will you, pal? And yeah, its' just kind of natural? that she doesn't like Iemitsu. And nah, I love long reviews! They're the best, bruh. Thanks for the great review!

 **Guest27:** Haha. "Feathers ruffled". I don't know why I laughed at the comment, but it was amusing to me. And nah, Ausil doesn't have to worry too much about Dino unless he's, you know, actually in danger of dying. As you can tell in this chapter, she's fine with him getting her. As long as he lives, she gets paid, so... And thanks for the question! Here's an update, but with not much Xanxus in it... whoops. Thanks for the review!

 **weaver yk:** Lmao. Won't that be a fun scenario. Thanks for the review!

 **Question:**

 **What character (of any show/series/franchise) have you connected to/felt represented you?**

 _I have two really;_

 _Korra from Legend of Korra is a huge one:(SPOILERS OF THE ENDING) I mean, she walks off with the other female lead, and is confirmed to be bisexual, so that's a huge thing, seeing that in a character that I loved and admired so much. I identify both bi and pan (I guess? I by both really?), so that was one of the first times I felt truly represented._

 _Another one is Yang from RWBY, mostly because of her body type. I have the exact same build as her, and seeing her be so confident and amazing has really helped me a lot. Also, she's an amazing character in general, and I just love both of them so much (also she might be bi/pan as well, and here's hoping my fellow bumbleby shippers)._

 _I also love how they're both very brash and "stick it to the man", because, bruh, if that ain't me..._

 _-Evenly_


	19. Lesson 19: To Watch

**Lesson 19: Her Mother Taught Her to Watch**

* * *

 _"She had blue skin_

 _And so did he._

 _He kept it hid_

 _And so did she._

 _They searched for blue_

 _Their whole life through,_

 _Then passed right by-_

 _And never knew."_

 ** _-Masks, Shel Silverstein_**

* * *

She wondered, briefly, if being around these children (and Dino, she added with a twinge of humor, was definitely included in this category) had made her softer.

No, she quickly determined, easily killing two 'Varia Quality' men without a speck of remorse; it was simply a matter of reflection. Sure, she would admit to being a human, complete and complex and whole. And therefore, she was faulted to the act of reflection. She was an adapter, after all, and adapted to both people and situations thusly. And so when her current hunting grounds that she had laid claim to temporarily were trampled upon?

(The lioness rose, yawned, a vapid display of teeth, and stretched placidly, nose daintily lifted by the keen scent of new blood, fresh blood, the potential of more predators?)

And she was pleasantly surprised that when she had made her way to outskirt of the center of the conflict (hidden, wisely, observing before entering, if needing to enter at all), that the situation seemed to still be in neutral grounds. For now. But she felt a keen taste of lead in her mouth when Iemitsu spoke and talked; politics. Oh, how she disliked politics.

And so instead of focusing on something that she never bothered to adhere to, from the comfort of shadows, she reviewed the Varia.

Their leader stood out immediately, and she vaguely recalled an estranged memory of meeting him once, if barely. It was more of the two brushing against each other, in her opinion. Her hand went to her left hip, her fingers traced the gun; and she moved on with slight question, and then prompt dismissal. If he was trying to send her a message, he would have to be more straight forward than a simple gift. Nice gun though. Well made, and she made a note to express this small gratitude. Ah, _gratitude._

Ausiliatrice would admit that she was fond of Superbi Squalo. He had subsequently saved Ausiliatrice from much trouble early in her life, and she was not one to forget things of that nature. He was loyal; she admired that greatly.

The two others, the tall, athletic man with interesting hair, and the young boy with blond hair and a tiara, she only knew by ambiguous names and nothing else. A certain coldness in her doubted that the large hulking figure was even human, but the small figure, the _baby_? Another one affected by the curse. An _Arcobaleno_ (like her father, like Reborn), she guessed. For she doubted that people like them would let such a small, literal child join their ranks. But then again, she supposed, people like them were apparently low enough to challenge children to such a pretentious and drawn out battle instead of slaughtering them in quick and efficient mercy.

She frowned and her eyebrows knit together; her opinion of the ninth was not a positive one at this point. But from the earlier tales of leadership she heard, simply floating in the underground, this did seem suspicious. Incredibly so. Why choose such a young vulnerable heir in the first place, if another, older and seemingly far more qualified son was available? Perhaps, he was disgraced? But what did that matter when it came to blood, and the only other option was a child, unprepared and not even a part of their world. Why choose this civilian and then discard him again for a disgraced, if he was even that, son? Why suddenly turn against the adviser and split the family?

Ausiliatrice was no leader and had no ambition to be one; but she knew the makings of one, and she knew what it took to be one, what it took to gather and keep people together. Bad blood, tainted, she decided. A bastard, perhaps? She asked herself, looking over at Xanxus curiously.

(takes one to know one, she thought humorously)

But no: only a fool would keep this hidden and then make him boss, only for the scandal to come to light later, as it always, always does (they have their ways, of hunting and burning this blood, _her_ blood, and Ausiliatrice? She was one of the lucky ones that escaped the fire). And she assumed, against better judgment, that the ninth was no fool. She could only hope, at least, for Tsunayoshi's sake.

She knew something wasn't right. And this theory was further proved when two new figures made an appearance. She reviewed the identical pink haired woman, only vaguely listening as they explained their presence.

 _Janus_.

Oh, how _interesting_. And then, while Ausiliatrice was reviewing the two groups once again, she noticed something. It was a simple matter of connecting the dots, linking the respective guardians to their respective opponents. And abyssal eyes snapped to Iemitsu's position, and for one moment, her killer intent spiked severely,

and red eyes immediately snapped to her location,

but she masked it just as Iemitsu felt a cold shiver down his spine, and moved just after.

Lambo Bovino was Tsunayoshi's Lightning guardian. And Ausiliatrice knew exactly which hand the rings came from.

(and she knew exactly which hand to bite)

* * *

She was _here_. And she had watched _him_.

Xanxus turned sharply, once again pushing his second aside.

"The fuck is your problem?" Squalo snapped, once again daring to walk along side his boss after being pushed to the side (and behind them, Leviathan simmered, but kept his distance, eyes only narrowing in distaste seeing this), "You should be jumping with fucking joy, right? We shut that shitty adviser down, and everything's goin- ack!"

Squalo shot back as Xanxus spit bullets in his direction. Vaguely, however, not truly aiming to kill. He ignored the curses and shouts that spewed from the other man's mouth and his guardians (scum) were amused by the display. Gola Mosca simply breathed heavily as always, as always, dominating the air with spurts and deep winds of hot air; a constant reminder of _his_ presence. Xanxus's eyes barely glanced back at the thing.

(and he felt it, cold and _ice_ , once more, unbearable)

And he turned suddenly off the path back to the hotel.

"The fuck you going?" Squalo stopped, yelling after their boss.

And Xanxus didn't even bother to answer.

* * *

"Where's Iemitsu?"

Abyssal eyes, replicating her own, and soft brown looked up at her from the kitchen table. Romario barely glanced over, from where he leaned on the kitchen counter. Concern, Ausiliatrice noticed, on his brow.

"Out," Reborn stated curtly.

"Ah, Ausil-liatrice," Dino added wisely, giving her a tired smile, "where have you been, huh?

"Cleaning," she said, reflecting her father's tone as she moved to sit beside Dino, across from the Arcobaleno, "but there are more pressing matters." Reborn raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Oh? More pressing than trained assassins battling our unprepared students?" He quirked.

"Those two woman, the judges?" Ausiliatrice said, ignoring his snide remark, "I know them. They're from Olympus, or really, their original is." Reborn's expression flattened, and Dino's hung with vague disbelief. Romario simply raised an eyebrow, but was the most immediately accepting of this information.

"What do you mean you know them?" Dino reiterated.

"Exactly that," she gave him a side look, "Janus. Those are their subordinates." A moment of terse silence, and then, Reborn spoke:

"Can they be trusted?"

"Not at all," Ausiliatrice stated easily, "Janus does what they want. They only stayed in Olympus for a limited amount, and I only was around the time that they were exiting and forming their own organization. Sometimes, of course," she said, nodding towards Romario, "Hera will call for them, or they'll use us, but I've only ever seen glimpses of them. I may have met Janus once, but that's only a guess. They dress all their subordinates in their likeness, or at least, their aesthetic, so I can't be for sure."

"What do you know about their trustworthiness then?" Reborn asked with narrowed eyes. Black met black coolly.

"I know they're playful. Coy. And that they are on no one's side. If that's what qualifies a good judge, then Janus firmly believes it. They inflict their own order on the world, but that order may be the one who flaunts the most bills," she finished, having made her point. Dino nearly scowled, leaning back in his chair.

"So that means that they may be against us, huh?" He reaffirmed their thoughts out loud.

"But we can't be sure; just careful," Reborn rebutted, and then glanced back at Ausiliatrice. "Thank you for this information."

"Don't claim this for yourself," she corrected him, barely tilting her head up, "this is for the children. Tsunayoshi."

Reborn's lip barely quirked, as the other two occupants of the room stiffened, feeling the air acutely ripple between the two. Dino looked between with confusion. Romario looked down with a frown and heavy knowledge.

"Who would have thought you had such a soft spot for kids, huh?" He stated with almost-amusement, with a tight-lipped smirk.

"You certainly wouldn't," she shot back, baring teeth brilliantly, if barely. But dispute this bite, this display of sharpened teeth, Reborn kept his smirk, and perhaps, it grew just only.

(Because they were playing now, weren't they? He was no longer a mouse to her, at least)

(what a strange sort of bonding this was. But ah, what did you expect from this father, from this daughter?)

* * *

"And where the fuck are you going?" Squalo called, eyes moving from the empty throne-like chair near the fire place to the tall, darker skinned man, stalking through the penthouse.

"Some dumbass has been killing our men," Leviathan seethed, the reports and information still ringing in his ears with rage, "and so I'm going to take them out."

It was a matter of connecting dots; and Squalo let out a rough burst of laughter. Leviathan turned on his heels, glaring hotly at the other man.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" Leviathan questioned, still boiling.

"The fuck you think you can do against her, huh?" Squalo said, stilling laughing, "You think you can go up against that?"

"You seem to be having a good time," Belphegor sing songed, swaggering into the room with Mammon walking by his side, walking fast to keep up with the prince's longer strides, "I find Levi's ugly mug amusing too, you know."

"Why you!" Leviathan turned, hand on the hilt of a parabola. Belphegor nearly giggled, silver already tossing between fingers.

"You want to go, huh?" He sneered. Mammon sighed, then addressed Squalo, their question managing to subdue the rising dispute.

"Who are you talking about anyway?" the illusionist asked, "If someone's killing our men, then shouldn't we be concerned? It will be troublesome if they get involved." Squalo clicked his tongue, looking away from the three once more, his eyes lingering again to the fire place.

"She won't try anything… she's a gray area." She wouldn't align herself with them, he would like to think.

"Then why the fuck is this bitch killing my men?" Leviathan snapped.

"The fuck should I know the details," Squalo snapped back, "All I know is that they got unlucky and crossed her path. Their own damn fault," he concluded, taking a sip of his wine.

"You were the one who insisted on having men spread throughout the area, Levi," Mammon reminded him, "It's even more of a waste of money now that they're being killed off." Leviathan's hand clinched again, and he glared at the three.

"Don't you care that we're losing man power?"

"Of course not," Belphegor said, jumping over the back of the couch and laying out causally, "if they were even an ounce of actually Varia Quality, then they wouldn't be killed, right? Pathetic, really," he then turned his head, looking over at Squalo with a curious grin.

"Oi, Captain," he addressed while Leviathan continued to seethe, "you said you know her, right?"

"Yeah," Squalo said as a gruff hum, "Atalanta." A moment. And then Belphegor nearly shot up, draping his upper half on the back of the couch to lean closer to Squalo with an excited grin. Consequently, Squalo leaned back, if only slightly, feeling deep and sudden regret for even mentioning that name again in front of the younger.

"You're kidding, right? She's really here?" The boy asked, childish excitement and bloodlust boiling in him.

"She must be here on a job," Mammon muttered, deeming themselves informed enough and walking out, "I can appreciate a smart mercenary."

"I don't care who the fuck she is, I'm hunting her down!" Leviathan rasped, turning on his heel and finally storming out. Squalo simply scoffed, brushing it off. Belphegor giggled with anticipation.

"I can't wait to see how much she fucks him up," Belphegor sang gleefully, laying back on the couch, and spinning a knife in the air, a huge grin on his face. Squalo hummed, not really caring much about the prospect, and instead wondering if the two had found each other yet.

But then, he blinked, and realized:

"Fuck!" He said, pushing himself up and following quickly after Levi, "We don't have another fucking Lightning Guardian!"

"Have fun saving Levi's sorry ass, Captain!"

And giggles echoed through the empty air once more.

(she had a soft spot for children, sure, but did she realize how easily she imprinted on them?)

(one of her greatest fears had already occurred, multiple times at that)

* * *

 _"Janus, huh... that's troublesome. I'll be sure to have that looked into as well. Thanks, Reborn."_

"It's not me who you should be thanking. Oh, and Iemitsu?"

 _"Hm?"_

"Tread carefully. My daughter is on the hunt for you."

 _"Wait, you mean- your daughter?! Reborn don't hang u-"_

Because now that he has laid claim? It was a matter of waiting and watching.

(she had to inherit the trait from someone, after all, and Esmeralda was never the type to wait)

* * *

Atalanta turned easily after inspecting the dead body, facing the men who jumped down and approached her. Leviathan's eyes, livid and angry, went from the dead subordinate behind her, to the woman herself. There was a flinch, when he met her eyes, and as a display of stupidity, unwise words tumbled form his mouth.

(and Squalo simply watched and observed a few steps behind Leviathan, allowing actions to occur to a certain extent, and nodding in greeting, and noting how she nodded back, respectfully)

"So you're the bitch who's been killing my men?"

"And you're their Shepard, I presume?" She shot back smoothly, "If you disagree with me killing them, stop sending your sheep into my hunting grounds," she replied smoothly.

"Why yo- gah!" Leviathan slumped immediately, caving into Squalo's harsh kick. Now, he decided, was time to step in before Leviathan continues in his stupidity.

"Idiot!" He hissed, then grabbed Leviathan's hair, bringing his pained face up to face Squalo's, "She'll fucking cremate you without breaking a fucking sweat." He roughly threw the Lightning Guardian down again, "And if your men were even an ounce of Varia Quality then they wouldn't have been picked off so easily."

Leviathan growled, and pushed himself up slightly, wiping the side of his mouth. He was angled up, yes, but now had gathered enough wisdom, knowing not to rise fully again. And yet he was still lacking:

"Why are you defending her?" He accused, narrowing his eyes as Squalo stepped forward, clearly just having used Leviathan's anger as a stepping stone to a conversation with the woman.

"Please," Squalo scoffed, "as if she needs defending."

"Flattered," Atalanta said flatly, "but we both know you're not here to flirt."

"Fuck yeah, I'm not," Squalo said, nodding his head on the gun on her hip, "what the fuck is up with you, huh? Whose side are you on, anyway?" Her eyes barely narrowed.

"You know I'm unaffiliated," she stated, "Neutral."

"You ain't no fucking Switzerland and you know it," Squalo called out, casing her lip to quirk slightly, "you're running around with Cavallone. Why?"

"My charge. I'm body guarding." At this, his eyes narrowed.

"You're not the type…" he stated with a small incline of his head, inspecting and looking over at her once more. His eyes were momentarily drawn between her eyes and the gun, not knowing on which to settle.

"You took the gun, didn't you?" He barked, his eyes making the decision. She shifted slightly, jutting her left hip more, the gun catching the dim light of the park they were positioned in.

"It's a nice gun. I'm not one to turn down quality," she said simply, "Tell your boss that he did well in constructing it. But I suppose I could say that to him myself if he decides to actually show himself."

And at this, Squalo's eyebrows collided in confusion; and then he quickly fell into swears as a all too familiar and searing presence revealed itself.

"God fucking dammit!" Squalo seethed, turning as Xanxus walked out from the cover of the trees, keeping eye contact with Atalanta the entire time, "You were here the whole fucking time?! Fucking shitty boss!" He seethed, kicking Leviathan, still on the ground, once more in anger.

"B-boss…." the lesser man wheezed looking up at Xanxus in confusion, wonder, amazement. But mostly, but mostly just confusion, wondering at his connection with this strange woman ( _his_ woman? Was this his boss's woman, Leviathan wondered, almost panicked, and this thought silenced him, making him wary).

"I was wondering," Xanxus rumbled lowly, finally managing to tear his eyes away from hers and travel the rest of her form,

(and she had not changed, not aged a single day it seemed, and immortalized and glorious, like the day when he had first saw her, animosity still vivid and fresh, and _desirable_ )

"When you would call me out," he finished with a bare movement of his lips, turning upward slightly.

"You've grown since that night," she acknowledged, causing a fire to fester more, shooting up dangerous in Xanxus's hollows. _Acknowledgment_. But he wanted more.

"Watch my battles," he stated simply, meeting her eyes, unflinching again. Leviathan stared between the too, nearly shaking and still confused. Squalo watched intently.

A moment. And then:

"Don't tell me what to do." And with a turn of her heel and a flip of her hair, she walked away from the three,

leaving Xanxus grinning wildly.

* * *

"You're coming in late again," Dino said, looking up from the papers litter across the coffee table of the penthouse.

"You're up late again," Ausiliatrice reflected.

"Boss stuff," he said vaguely, with a tired smile, but still slightly lopsided. He looked back at the papers, but paused; he lifted his head, looking back over at her before she reached the door of her room.

"Is that blood on your jacket?" She blinked, and looked down at her sleeve.

"Ah," she said, "I apologize for not cleaning. I was…." she trailed off, her eyes going from the sleeve of her jacket to her left hip, "distracted."

"Distracted?" Dino repeated, concerned, "Ausil-"

"Ausiliatrice."

"- have you been - don't tell me that you've been killing Varia members?"

"What of it?" She asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, "they know their boundaries and they've stepped over."

"But you shouldn't kill them for it!" Dino said, frowning and standing up. He stepped back and she stepped towards him, Dino nearly falling back into his seat at her sudden look and movement, the sudden change of the air in the room as a consequence of her abrupt switch.

"Cavallone," she said levelly, but the temperature of the tone ran Dino's blood to ice, "I'm not one of your men. So don't," she said, fixing Dino with a harsh gaze, "try to order me around."

"Besides," she said, turning her head and becoming casual again, dropping down and draping herself in a chair, "they don't care."

"What do you mean they don't care?" Dino asked carefully moving again and leaning on the back of the armchair opposing her. She blinked, then clarified.

"They're fine with it."

Dino opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened and closed it again, before letting his head fall.

"Okay. I give up," He said, pushing himself up from his lean and turning, folding his hands behind his head as he did so, momentarily forming a symbol of surrender before his arms rested, "and I'm going to bed. I'll deal with the papers in the morning." He moved to exit, but stopped after only just opening his door.

"You have to deal with that Hibari kid, and keep him away from the battles, you know? Reborn says that he'll go ballistic if he knows that they're taking place at the school," Dino reminded her, leaning back out. She allowed herself to roll her eyes, and gave him an almost disappointed look, so different that how she looked at him just seconds earlier (He had forgotten, he had thought with a slight frown, that Ausiliatrice was very much an assassin before a bodyguard), clearly annoyed by his doubt.

"Don't worry. I have," she nearly tutted, looking away from him in dismissal, "a plan."

* * *

"What do you mean the battles are going to be at the school?" Hibari Kyoya nearly seethed.

"If you're worried about property damage, don't be," Ausiliatrice said smoothly, watching lightly as he once again tried to push himself up, blood and sweat dripping from his body, "Janus is effective in cover ups. I even expect that you'll receive a large sum of money from an anonymous donor for contribution after all this is over. Your school will be fine, perhaps even in better condition than before," Ausiliatrice concluded, succeeding in getting him to disperse some animosity of the subject.

"If you want," she added with a wry smirk, "I can set up an appointment between the two of you; and perhaps you can negotiate better benefits for your grounds." And at this prospect, his eyes barely lit up.

"Are you hunting," _as I asked_ , is what was left out.

"Of course," She said, nodding, "I know you feel uncomfortable with so many weaklings running around your territory; it's the least I can do, as your tutor, and while you spend your nights recovering." And at this, he scowled, and turned his head to the side, spitting out blood.

"You're not my tutor."

And yet, there was an underlying tone; respect, between two beasts. And that was something they both understood well. This concept, and at this point, each other.

"Kusakabe isn't here," She stated suddenly, causing him to look up at her once more, "so I'll patch you up." He sniffed at this, nearly snarling.

"I won't touch you without your consent," she said seriously. "But now that the battles are beginning, you need to heal properly." His eyes barely narrowed, and he looked away again, allowing his body to fully lean, then sag against the metal fence. Another understanding passed in that moment, with that small statement, and a feeling of _comfort?_ poked discretely at the back of Hibari's mind.

"Fine."

(A difficult kid indeed)

(but so was she, so was she)

* * *

"I'll come by your residence later to pick you up to go the first battle."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Fine. An escort then. Perhaps companion is more to your liking, Kyoya?"

"... why are we even going?"

And at this question Ausiliatrice shifted slightly, feeling weight on her left hip and humor playing on her lips.

"To watch."

* * *

 _"we're all killers._

 _we've all killed a part of ourselves to survive._

 _we've all got blood on our hands._

 _something somewhere had to die so we could stay alive."_

 ** _\- if memories could bleed, if dreams could scream m.a.w_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I've been sporadically working on a sketch of the last scene of chapter 5, with Ausiliatrice leaving the savanna, and **I posted the link on my profile** if you guys want to check it out (it's still very much a WIP, lmao, I have been dead this week)._

 _I love writing Ausil like this, because she keeps getting salities and saliter and I am given life by this. She needs a hype man, seriously. Matues would be a great hype man, actually. Too bad he's dead._

 _I plan to concluded the rest of the Varia arc with the next chapter. I was going to do it with this one, but I'm V tired and should go to bed soon because I'm getting my hair dyed again in the morning (green this time! I'mma be a pineapple for Halloween, and I'm actually going to kind of use Chrome's hairstyle). After this arc ends, I think I'm going to take a small break with "canon" chapters. As in, I'll put the first part of "If He Had Lived" (the name of the live!Mateus AU) after this arc, and then I might put Reborn's chapter? But yeah, and then, after that, it's the fun little thing that I've labeled in my notes as "Xanxus goes on a life changing field trip with Ausiliatrice". Lmao._

 _I wonder how many of you connect the quotes to the chapter? Usually it's a big hint at how I interpret what's happening. I just fucking love quotes so much, and I love hinting with them, and I usually use them as foreshadowing/hinting at relationships._

 _ **I'm going to for sure put the game show/question thing at the end of the next chapter, so this is your last chance to send Ausiliatrice any question you want to ask her.**_

 **Review Response:**

 **Guest:** Haha, glad you're excited! I really love the Varia too; V fun to write. Thanks for the review!

 **Laziness killed/BlackSky:** Lmao, I do what I want. And I think the reason that a lot of other "Reborn's daughter/son" stories depict Reborn becoming protective immediately upon meeting is that usually the kid in question is younger? While in this case, Ausil is a grown and very capable adult. Funny about you commenting about Ausil having more emotions while around the kids, as the very first section kind of mentions that. And I laughed at the "I'm a rock state". And it's terrifying how much potential Hibari had just by himself; add Ausil teaching him and it's on a whole other level. And nah, man, you need to chill on the harmonizing thing. And bruh, I actually though that she ship name sounding like Dinosaur was adorbs. As always, thanks for the wonderful review!

 **Guest:** Well there buddy... you may just get your wish, friend. Lmao. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest 27:** Aw, glad you got so excited about the update. Not sorry about the cliffhanger though, lmao. And I wouldn't worry about Levi being the one that Ausil goes after/blames... And do you mean, like another series? Or like, a universe where Mateus lives? Thanks for the question and the review (and the luck for homework, lmao, I need it, my man)!

 **Question:**

 **If you could dye your hair any color without worrying about money/anything of that matter that would hold you back, what color would you dye it?**

 _Well, right now, my hair is a pink/magenta. When I first started coloring it, it was a pretty lavender/pastel purple, and then I went to pink which faded very nicely, to a stronger magenta, which did the same, and now I've going to a dark, pretty green (because it's turning to fall/winter, so I figured now would be a good time to try a darker color)._

 _-Evenly_


	20. Lesson 20: To Apologize Part 2

**Lesson 20: Her Mother Taught Her to Apologize Part 2**

* * *

 _"We have nothing to fear except ourselves. We are unholy, awful people."_

 ** _–Welcome to Night Vale, Episode 10: "Feral Dogs"_**

* * *

She sat placidly outside the quaint café in the shopping district of Namimori. Espresso in one hand and phone in the other, her eyes scanned listlessly over the pictures of the bodies and matching faces, sending this information to Hera in order to collect their bounties.

People, civilians, mingled mindlessly, passing the assassin with few thoughts, and more stares, but only due to her dark skin and foreign looks; no thought about her bloody profession. She let her mind wander, and her eyes as well, carefully to advert her gaze and only give people glimpses of her abyssal eyes and only that,

(she knew how to work and avoid gazes, and capture them if needed; she has known all her life that people were uncomfortable with staring into her eyes. But glimpses, a sliver of an impossibly deep blackness quickly hidden behind long and thick lashes, only for the eye to be drawn to Ausiliatrice's exquisite, defined, and ethereal profile, turned away but still intriguing? She knew how to utilize this well, perhaps to obtain a free drink when she had the decency to look for lingering eyes, or, often, to get more information out of Shamal when the man attempted to weasel away from conversations)

And she settled on the battles. On her students, and others.

Naturally, she had full confidence in Hibari Kyoya. He had potential before she took him under her wing, but now? She quickly realized that his potential was limitless, and this excited her. Perhaps one day he would make for an exciting opponent for her, but for now, he had much growing to do. Still very much a young cub. Easily, he would overcome this battle, but the others?

Perhaps out of the group, Yamamoto Takeshi had the second best chances, aside from her student. Even in the little time she had been around him, she noticed that his instincts were fitting for a hitman, and there was a certain amount of raw talent that could be tapped into.

But his opponent was Superbi Squalo. Which was unfortunate.

Gokudera Hayato was being trained by Shamal, which says a lot in itself. The fact that Shamal would even agree to take on a student speaks of the boy's abilities, or perhaps it was his drive that Shamal found endearing enough to take him on? Either way, his fight would certainly be interesting, given what Shamal has told of his training, if the boy completes it. So far, he hasn't, but still, but still.

Belphegor, Prince the Ripper would be his opponent. Ausiliatrice had heard of the boy, naturally, and was aware of the messiness of his kills. She supposed everyone had their own art to it, and Prince the Ripper had a unique, distinct, and incredible bloody trademark. She couldn't judge; she went through that phase as well, after all.

She knew very little of Ryohei Sasagawa. She knows he is completely a civilian, which diminishes his chances right off the bat. Lussuria, the Muay Thai specialists of the Varia was his opponent, so perhaps, if the boy either was adept in hand to hand combat, or maybe plans on bringing a lethal weapon to a fist fight, he had a chance. Unlike Belphegor and Squalo, Lussaria was rather average, given the circumstances and people that surrounded him. Varia Quality, sure, but not a genius like Belphegor, or a master swordsman and tactician like Squalo.

Ausiliatrice suddenly realized that she didn't know who the representative was for the mist battle. Certainly, no matter the opponent, the fight would prove to be interesting; illusionary battles always were, she would admit, no matter her instinctual dislike of them. There was also a strong possibility that Mammon could be an Arcobaleno. Ausiliatrice hoped she could witness firsthand the true power of the strongest 7, and perhaps contain a better grasp of their meaning.

Leviathan was the obvious weakest of the Varia. But his opponent was a toddler.

Which brought her to the thought of Iemitsu, which brought about a spurt of anger. Her mouth turned slightly down and a sour look passed her face; the people passing by her table noticed and made a point to create a large berth around the woman. She took a breath, noticing this, and calmed herself:

she would, she had decided earlier, wait until he came to the battles tonight, as he was sure to do. And she would confront him then about their disagreement.

Ausiliatrice leaned back in her chair casually, lifting her drink and meeting the lid with lips; only to click her tongue in annoyance when she realized that she had already finished the drink. She barely stiffened, however as someone approached, placing a new drink in front of her, and the two nearly identical figures sat across from her at the table.

Her eyes barely narrowed and her skin tingled, acting abrasive and picking up on the mist flames penetrating the air around them. Empty eyes stared back, half their face concealed by black masks, pink wigs covering their heads. From this closeness, their tanned, nearly orange looking skin looked vaguely artificial, and Ausiliatrice guessed that it was.

"It's impressive how far you go for aesthetic, Janus," Ausiliatrice stated coolly, her eyes lingering on the arm of the figure sitting to her right, and then flickering to the drink offered.

"Janus wishes to question your role," the left stated and continued, "and asks that you do no interfere with the battles. Janus is willing to pay an adequate sum-"

"Cut the bullshit," Ausiliatrice snapped, refusing to break eye contact with the right, "I know it's really you, Janus."

The left nearly hesitated, mouth slightly open and displaying unsureness; the first ounce of emotion shown. They looked to their right at their companion uncertainly. Almost cold laughter seeped from the mouth of the person in question.

"I couldn't resist seeing an old colleague," they said, their voice completely neutral of any indications to their true identity, void and genderless. And yet, even then, still had a twinge of playfulness to it. "Leave. Keep the illusion around us," Janus snapped, raising their hand and shooing the other figure away. The subordinate barely bowed, standing and walking away from the conversation. Ausiliatrice was left, virtually alone with Janus.

"How did you know?" They asked, curiously as they folded their arms and leaned forward.

"Your arm," Ausiliatrice said, nodding in reference to their right arm, "your glove didn't hide the mark Hera left completely."

"Ah," Janus clicked their tongue in vague distaste, "I forgot that you were there to witness the tail end of that… discussion. She can be a bitch when she wants to be, but I'll admit, she knows how the world works. But," they continued, tightly smiling, literally, Ausiliatrice noticed, the skin actually stretching a bit with the action, "I know how it works too now."

"Which is why," Janus moved on, "I'm very curious about which side you are playing for, Ausiliatrice. As the judge, I need to know where you stand."

"I'm gray," she said, then added with a twinge of humor, "Switzerland."

"You're training one of Tsunayoshi's Sawada's guardians, are you not?"

"If I was fighting completely for one side of the other," Ausiliatrice said, leaning causally back in her chair, and raised her head slightly. Janus barely stiffened at this movement, not relaxing even as Ausiliatrice grew more causal. "It would be painfully clear which side I was on."

A movement; and then a scoff from Janus.

"You fence sitters are all the same," the voice drawled, "you have to pick a side eventually."

"Says the one who makes the fences," Ausiliatrice replied. Janus paused, then laughed coldly at this.

"A shame that I didn't get to work with you more. You only came in when I was on my way out, right?" They asked with a tilt of their head. "There was a lot of buzz about you, even before you became a hero, you know?"

"You came out of Hera's office dripping blood from that arm, yes," Ausiliatrice quibbled, causing Janus to move to cover the small bit of mutilation that was not covered by their fashionable, fingerless glove (an effort to blend without obviously hiding, Ausiliatrice noted), and continued, "I'm not interested in joining your hive mind, if that's what you're getting at." Again, they scoffed.

"Of course not. You're not my type, anyway. Sorry, _honey_ ," they added with another strained smile.

"If you're worried about me in the battles," Ausiliatrice pointed out boldly, "then you don't want me to fuck things up. Meaning that you have an ulterior motive? Someone tipping the scales with a fat load of bills, Liberty?"

And the smile fell, restrained and neutral once more.

"Do you know the mythology behind my name, Atalanta?" Janus started after a tense moment. They continued without an answer, taking her stare as one:

"God of beginnings. God of gates, doorways, time, passages. God of endings, and also the beginnings, of conflict. Simultaneously war _and_ peace. Janus looks to the past and the future, and honey, let me tell you that this current client doesn't even make a ripple in the world compared to my next."

And at this, Ausiliatrice noticed, was almost a flicker of anxiety, of fear; and they masked it just as fast and covered this slip up with more words:

"The Romans depicted Janus as having two heads, looking forward and back; I have evolved from my name. I have enough faces to look all directions and see everything all at once. A true judge sees all, do they not? Do you know what Cervello means, Atalanta?" And she blinked, her expression almost bored.

"So I was right about the hive mind?" Her comment earned another strained smile.

"You going to drink the coffee I bought you?" Janus asked suddenly, nodding down. Ausiliatrice's eyes flickered. "If you're worried about poison, don't. I wouldn't dare kill Hera's prized gem."

"You wouldn't be able to kill me," Ausiliatrice stated evenly.

"True," Janus agreed, "but that's why I am a judge; a thinker, not a fighter. And rest assured, I will judge this conflict fairly, so you don't feel the need to be involved more than you are. The Cervello remains biased. I make sure of it."

And that sounded enough like a promise for Ausiliatrice to let the matter go. And if broken? Well, Ausiliatrice would then perhaps be tempted to play judge herself.

"Hopefully," Janus said, rising and nodding, "we won't have to meet face to face again." And Ausiliatrice allowed a wry smile.

"Hopefully,"she echoed. And she watched them approach their follower, observing until the two disappeared into the crowd, and waiting until she felt the uneasy feeling of mist flames slip from the air around her.

And she leaned forward, taking the cup of coffee and drinking, resumed in her waiting.

* * *

"I wonder who will be first tonight, huh?" Lussaria hummed, leaning back with his glass and looking to the balcony.

"What does it matter?" Belphegor responded, bored and stirring once again laying the couch. Mammon sat on the small space left, carefully counting and filtering through bills with small fingers. "We're going to crush them either way."

"For our sake," Mammon muttered, "I hope it's you. You're too excited and blood thirsty to be cooped up." Belphegor giggled gleefully in response.

"If I don't get to spill some of those brat's blood tonight, I'm going hunting. You wanna come, baby?" He asked, looking over.

"Hm. As long as we don't run into that woman and cause trouble, then I don't see why not. There should be a few bounties that she's missed."

"But I _want_ to run into her, Mammon," Belphegor said, almost ecstatic, "it will be interesting to meet her, right?" And he erupted into fits of laughter once more.

"What did you think of her, Levi? Hm?" Lussaria asked, looking over at their rather silent lightning representative. Leviathan barely glanced over, his eyes marked on the closed door his boss and their second had entered through to discuss. "You've been awful quiet since you came back with boss and Squalo."

"It's not fair that you got to meet her," Belphegor stated, allowing a small frown, "and that you survived it. Thought she would kill you for sure. Shame." He fully frowned, however, seeing that his jab received no reaction. Lussaria remained attentive, and even Mammon kept sharp eyes, noticing a kilter in Leviathan's usual personality as well.

"Oi, Levi," Belphegor snapped, irritation rising at the prospect of being ignored, "What's wrong with you, huh?"

"That woman…" the dark skinned man muttered, still reviewing repeatedly the conversation from the night before, "She's boss's woman." A moment, and then a happy squeal from Lussaria.

"So I was right!" He nearly bounced in his seat, "It was love after all." Belphegor hummed in response, growing a bit bored, but intrigued, if only slightly because of the people involved.

"Boss and Atalanta?"

"Can't you just see it?" Lussaria said, "They're perfect!"

"None of us know this woman," Mammon reminded them in a flat voice, but the observation appeared, almost, to go unheard.

"How do you know for sure, Levi?" Belphegor questioned, "How do we know if you're just taking something and running with it, huh?"

"Well, he sent her the gun, didn't he?" Leviathan snapped in defense, returning to his usual aggressive persona, "And I noticed he carries around that gun, and she had hers on her too! And he wanted her to watch his battles for the rings!"

"He asked her to watch the battles, huh?" Belphegor asked, almost to himself and then grinned, "So that means she'll be around."

"So romantic!" Lussaria swooned, giddy, "They'll make a beautiful couple." Mammon stirred in their spot, irritation lingering and growing in their shadow.

"I can't believe I called Boss's woman a bitch!" Levi finally bemoaned, the fact just now hitting him, nearly crumpling forward and clutching his head in fear, "He's going to kill me now!"

"Serves you right," The prince snickered, and that alone was the noise that set Mammon over.

" _That's enough_ ," Mammon snapped, darkness seeping into the air around him, visible and draining in all aspects. It quelled, this illusion, but it lingered, remaining as a dangerous pet in their shadow.

"It's idiotic to make assumptions," the illusionist tutted, returning to counting their bills as if nothing had transpired, "and not to mention, a waste of money."

* * *

"They're weak," Hibari stated as another man fell easily to the bite of his tonfa.

"Fodder," Ausiliatrice agreed, walking forward and looking down off of the roof; the viewpoint they had established to watch the battle. Her eyes took in the arena, taking note of the lights sitting at the top, and narrowing them slightly in suspicion.

"Sun will be tonight," she guessed, seeing that the setting was built as a boxing ring. Therefore, it was made for full contact fighters. Typical of suns, she thought to herself, her eyes lingering back to the trail of mutilated bodies the two had left in their wake. She hummed lightly, and moved, flipping over and securing her great mass of hair in a ponytail, revealing her untouched guns, secured on her back.

"I don't see why I need to be here," Kyoya complained once more, watching as Tsunayoshi and his friends arrived, already having reviewed the Varia with little interest.

"I told you," the woman said, seeing the group of assassins jump down alongside Janus's minions and announce the battle before dramatically revealing the stage for the fight (typical of them, really. She had always heard that Janus had a flare for dramatics). Xanxus, she noted, was not present. But Squalo was, spewing insults and shouting gruffly as usual, she noted with an amused air.

"We're here to watch the battles," she repeated the words she had spoken earlier to him, and then added for emphasis, "I assumed I wouldn't have to repeat concepts around you, Kyoya." And this statement earned a small flare from his nostrils.

"I see no need to watch these herbivores' battle," he restated his distaste, moving to sit on the edge of the roof.

"First, they're your teammates," and he scrunched his nose at this, displaying his dislike fully, "and it's useful to take note of how they fight. Second, and more importantly," she continued:

"Although you need to know how to fight and fight well, it's essential you watch others' fights," she explained simply, watching with a fluttering feeling, even smiling lightly as the kids huddle together in inspiration of each other, "This has a simple reason, and is vital in circumstances such as these battles; you never know who will become your next opponent, and with your deposition," to fight everything, conquer and leave with bloodied weapons, bloodied hands, to come as a warrior and leave as a champion, "that label falls on pretty much everyone."

And he found himself unable to disagree. Although, by no means did that means he had to vocalize this (although she knew, she knew).

He turned his head, considering saying more words to his tutor, but both were forced to shield their eyes are the arena exploded with energy and heat.

The battle of the sun had begun.

Ausiliatrice clicked her tongue in distaste, digging into the pocket of her jacket to procure her sunglasses, noticing her student do the same.

"So it's titled," she muttered, watching as Ryohei Sasagawa struggled being played easily by the Mauy Thai user.

"Ryohei Sasagawa," Kyoya commented, watching this beating happen with a neutral expression, "may be a loud, annoying animal. But he doesn't relent." And this sentence, he finished with almost an annoyed tug of lips downward, as if recalling unpleasant memories of this nature.

"Showing support for your teammate?" Ausiliatrice teased lightly. And her student scowled.

"He's annoying to underestimate," he defended. "That's all."

But both barely frowned, seeing the harsh light take its toll on Ryohei's body, while Lussuria's body was far better and more obviously equipped for such conditions. Her expression changed to that of curiosity, however, when a loud voice called out, and small figure was carried onto the scene by…. was that a hawk?

"Another baby…." Kyoya noted with vague excitement seeping through his voice. And Ausiliatrice responded with a small hum, watching as the blonde baby yelled at his student, and then interacted with her own father.

"The Arcobaleno, Colonello," Ausiliatrice muttered, recognizing. Her eyes narrowed further, seeing Lussaria suddenly step it up, slowly moving away from just playing with the boy.

"He's getting bored," she noticed, and Kyoya barely glanced over at her. And what a dangerous line to be bordering, with people like them, they both knew.

A sudden shattering moment, and they suddenly didn't need the sunglasses anymore.

"Did you see what happened?," Ausiliatrice asked her student while slipping her sunglasses off. From his still narrowed eyes and slight frown, Kyoya did not. "Look carefully at his body," she suggestion, and after a small grumble, he did. And with a slight widening of his eyes, it clicked.

"The salt."

She hummed, almost musically.

"It comes in handy with hot climates," Ausiliatrice admitted, having used this technique before, "but unfortunately, it was luck that that boy was able to do it then. See," she nodded forward as Lussaria mimicked the same technique, but with far more skill, knocking salt off of the boy's own body, "Varia quality." Kyoya raised an eyebrow at her almost jaunting tone. She shrugged at his look.

"It's a title that's thrown around too often," she admitted her opinion callously, "you and I both know that titles mean nothing." And he hummed in slight disagreement, but made no vocalization to argue. He agreed in may ways, after all. But having a title had certain intimidation to it, didn't it? And Hibari Kyoya enjoyed that ring, and the fear certain titles invoked in the weak.

Ausiliatrice, however, came from a far more simple background. A name, she thought to herself, was simply recognition. And true strength went beyond words on paper, or phrases whispered between people. Power was witnessed and felt.

But Ausiliatrice could admit that words could be a good stress reliever:

" _Motherfucker_ ," she seethed in Portuguese, seeing Iemitsu step onto the scene, carting with him two young girls (children, children, _children_ ; when would this man stop dragging the youth into this sick and meaningless game?), obviously using them as props to inspire Ryohei to win.

(or, a far more possible outcome that Ausiliatrice could picture pristinely; this poor, young girl seeing her brother mercilessly killed and beaten into a bloody pulp before her very eyes)

And although this wasn't the outcome (the girls, thanks god, were led away by Colonnello before witnessing more blood they were surprisingly oblivious to in the first place), it wasn't surprising when the Varia took out their own, with Gola Mosca shooting Lussaria in the back when the man feel below their quality.

Kyoya barely narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Vague Disagreement, she recognized, and then remembered that Kyoya too, was a leader of an organization. He had men under him as well, and although she couldn't imagine him caring much for them, he was still one for efficiency. And just throwing away one of their fighters? She wondered briefly what he truly thought about that.

"The organization I work for," She started, causing his eyes to slink to her, "is full of mercenaries, assassins, soldiers: those who fight for a paycheck, those who seek thrill. And often, we find employment in those who are pitted against each other. Which leads to us fighting other demigods. But," she said, reviewing the children below, reacting sadly to the callous act they had just witness.

(A victory, not pyrrhic, but still with a loss, still with a loss. Although, she supposed seeing Ryohei's horrified expression, staring at Lussuria's unmoving body, perhaps this victory could be considered a devastating toll on the victor)

(so young, so young)

"We finish the job," she said, thinking of all the demigods that had opposed her, and well? There were many myths of demigods and gods fighting amongst each other. Perhaps modern times had not progressed as far from history as they thought.

"Elimination of the weak," Hibari defined, watching as the group slowly shifted away.

"Do you believe all herbivores should be eliminated?" She asked him curiously. He frowned, but did not respond. "Without herds, what is left for carnivores to protect?" She continued in this proposal. And he sniffed, lifting his head and looking back at her.

"Carnivores don't crowd in herds," he snapped, scowling.

"You're right," she said, narrowing her eyes, watching as Iemitsu Sawada approached his son, watching Tsuna's clearly uncomfortable reaction, and watching as Iemitsu and his apprentice walked away. She began walking herself, and her student watched, remaining on the roof.

"They run in families."

* * *

"Your continuation to involve children is baffling, Iemitsu."

And the man stalled, turning only his head to address the woman, body already tensed. His apprentice, however, did not have this same tact, having whipped around, surprised by her sudden presence.

"Your insistence about stating your opinion of the matter is what baffles me, Atalanta," he responded coolly. "Honestly, I'm a little annoyed. Why do you care so much?" he asked boldly, at least having enough wit to see that this was the best option; direct confrontation.

"I'm a rather straight forward woman," she said truthfully, "and I express what I feel."

"And now?" He asked carefully, stepping slightly in front of Basil. "What do you feel?"

"Pissed off. Irritable. Like I need something to take that out on something."

And she didn't need to clarify who her intended target was.

"Basil," Iemitsu addressed calmly, shouldering off the upper half of his construction suit, and tying the loose arms around his waist, "leave us." The young boy looked uncertainly between the two, their aura already pushing against each other.

(the battle, or perhaps, play fight, already having begun)

"But, Master-"

"Leave."

A full command that the boy had to follow.

"I'll admit," Iemitsu said, viewing Ausiliatrice as her hands went to her back, "it will be interesting to see just how strong Reborn's daughter is."

And she frowned at this, storing this information for later. For now? Her hands enclosed around her guns, and she drew. She didn't want to waste time on trivialities, and grew even more alert, seeing her own fire reflected in Iemitsu's eyes. Seeing this regard in him, perhaps earned a little more respect for the man, or at least, garnered that this would be a challenge. _Fun_.

Looks like she would be using her guns tonight, after all.

(They both needed to relive some stress, and what better way to do this than fall into play with another of their kind)

(and that night, the young lion roared again)

* * *

"That was his cloud guardian watching from the roof, yeah?" Colonello stated, standing on the tree next to Reborn. The tutor's eyes lingered to his student's window, watching as he slept. Dino had just left a little over ten minutes ago, having scrounged as much information on the mysterious "Cervello" as he could, giving the information to Reborn, who had now just handed it to Colonello for delivery. It seemed, he noted, that Iemitsu was not going to return home tonight.

"Who was that other person with him? The woman?"

"Hm?" Reborn said, acting distracted, but lingering the subject at hand. "Oh. Her?"

A moment, the serenity of the night after a bloody battle settling.

"That was my daughter."

And Colonello nearly fell out of the tree in shock.

(Oh, he was just having fun with it now)

* * *

It was going to storm, Hibari Kyoya noticed. Which made for bad watching weather. Then again, his "tutor" had yet to contact him about viewing the battle tonight. Which, he noted, was rather unusual. But he shrugged and returned to his book as the first rattle of thunder sounded, signalling the start of the storm.

Oh well. At least, he considered, he had the night off (although one part of him wondered what she was doing, another part did not care int the slightest).

Thunder sounded again, causing him to look up, if just momentarily, and in that moment

he could have sworn he had heard the roar of a lion.

* * *

"You son displayed extremely boss like qualities tonight. It's a shame you missed it."

 _"Basil filled me in…. he could really do it, don't you think. Be the change?"_

"You weren't at the lightning battle. Why?" Reborn could clearly picture the man's frown at the sudden change of topic. And then, a chuckle, which surprised the hitman.

 _"You two really are related, huh? Hey, you think you could get her to join Tsuna's family? He could really benefit from someone like that, you know?"_

"…. you're referring to Ausiliatrice."

 _"Yep,"_ and Reborn nearly seethed, seeing the exact grin, _"we had a little run in the other night, and that kind of ran over into today-"_

"You two fought?"

 _"More like discussed,"_ Iemitsu corrected on the other end, _"I mean, neither of us really went out. At least, I know I didn't,"_ and part of Reborn felt relieved (and part of him felt confused for feeling relieved). _"I'll admit, I didn't like her at first, but she's a fighter. Sticks to her beliefs. Strong will, if you know what I mean."_

And at this, Reborn's mouth formed a hard line.

 _"Plus,"_ Iemitsu continued, growing a bit more serious, _"I talked to her more about the Cervello, and it's given me reason to jump start the investigation. I'm on the way to Italy now. With the business with the Cervello, and from what Xanxus said tonight…. well, you were there."_

"Something's definitely going on. Keep me updated."

 _"Hey, wait,_ " Iemitsu managed before Reborn snapped the phone shut, _"I'm serious about Atalanta; get her on our side. She's a powerful ally I want Tsuna to have."_

A moment of silence from Reborn. And then:

"Don't get comfortable telling me what to do. I listen to the ninth. Not to you."

And he snapped the phone shut.

* * *

"You're ridiculous, you know?" Shamal sighed, finishing his wrapping around her midsection, "completely batshit insane."

"It's hereditary," Ausiliatrice answered back easily, not wincing as he tightened her bandages. He sighed, nearly wincing himself as she tested her own flexibility, twisting her torso and checking her arms, completely disregarding her wounds.

"I blame Esmeralda…" he muttered finally, shaking his head again and falling back into his chair, rolling himself away from her after landing. "Do you not feel pain or something?" He asked, recalling how she had turned down medication.

"I heal fast, you know that."

"Now that," he said, pointing at her as his chair ceased it's rolling, "you have your old man to thank for." She clicked her tongue, and slid off of the table to where she was leaning against it casually.

"Yours is next, isn't he?" She asked suddenly, changing the subject. He gave her an almost accusing look, before sighing.

"Yeah. Tomorrow night, or," he said, looking at his watch, and then checking the clock on the wall of the nurse's office, "tonight. Considering you dragged me out of the comfort of my bed and all the way to the school to patch you up after your little cat fight," he grumbled, getting up from the chair.

"Please," She said with a roll of her eyes, "if you could call it that. And besides, we both know you were planning on drinking later anyway." He stopped suddenly in his path, and looked over at her.

"You're not going to try to finish this, are you?" His tone was warning. Almost abrasive. Ausiliatrice's eyes slid to his pocket, his hand hidden inside. He was holding a small capsule, with a mosquito encased, she knew. A threat, although with good intentions.

"Can't. He fled to Italy," she said smoothly, "Although during our small…. discussion, I managed to come to the conclusion that perhaps it would be beneficial to let him go. And," she said, almost with a sneer, "he explained to me his reasoning for his choice of lightning guardian. And I'll admit… he was honorable enough to give me a reason. I disagreed, completely. And I was right to," she said darkly, "A child is in the hospital. I suppose that small possibility of him winning saved his life, at least," she said sourly.

"All of these battles are hopeless," Shamal reminded her, sighing, taking his hand from his pocket and running it through his hair instead. He glanced back her, once more, " _God_ , you're insane. But you _were_ holding back, weren't you?" he accused, almost curiously, changing the subject again.

"So was he."

"That's not like you, Ausiliatrice," he hummed, moving to clean the equipment. She side eyed him, almost daringly. "Don't want to kill the poor Tsunayoshi's old man, huh?"

"I've left of large enough trails of widows and orphans," Ausiliatrice admitted without much emotion.

"It's a small mercy I can give."

* * *

Red eyes stared at the sky ring, almost distastefully. Bored. The title he had always wanted literally sitting on his finger and yet?

She hadn't watched the lightning battle. Which was a shame, meaning that she didn't see him take his rightful place, and obtain the sky ring. Although, he would admit, it was a bit uneventful, how the situation laid out. How the scum that belonged on the bottom on his heel was too weak to watch his own guardian be killed, and forfeited his own ring as consequence.

No matter. Elaborate battle or not, Xanxus will see to their painful demise.

"Isn't that right, Mosca?" He asked with an easy smile, addressing the large hunk of metal towering behind him. He glanced over at the metal beast, watching it blow out hot air and hum mechanically; so different to the music of life, quite the opposite, actually. And what a pleasant sound that was for Xanxus to hear.

"After all, old man," Xanxus said with a sneer, "you were the one who ensured their deaths in the first place."

And Gola Mosca simply spewed hot, dying air in response.

* * *

His eyes narrowed as she entered the room without knocking.

"You're injured."

"Cat scratches," she answered smoothly, without an ounce of emotion, going to sit on the couch across from him. "I want to talk to you about two things. You have the ring?"

He dug into his pocket, holding it up between two fingers with a bored expression. She nodded, her eyes, still he noted, almost distracted. Not absent, not excited, but still energetic. Her skin in fact, seemed glowing, and her demeanor was almost peaceful; as if bent up aggression had been released. Her air almost verged on harmonic, and yet it was natural for it not to reach that point. Her eyes were interested, as if just remembering inquisitive facts. And these facts, she made a note to share with him.

"Do you know about flames?"

The teen raised a single slender eyebrow in response.

"I was reminded of them," she admitted with an almost callous smile, "recently. And it would be beneficial for you to be aware of them, if not know how to make your own appear. It's a… different way of fighting. Another extension," she explained, gesturing lightly to his tonfa, knowingly hidden in his jacket, "of yourself, as your weapons are. A part of you."

"For people like us," she said, and he made no move to disagree, already knowing their likeness, "it's typically very easy to ignite. And our flames," she said, digging in her own pocket and pulling out a rather simple ring, with a single stone. She placed it on her finger. A blink, and the flames reflected brightly in Kyoya's eyes. "Our flames," she continued, extinguishing it just as fast and removing the ring, "burn bright. Strong _. Violently_."

But what is the wood then, his gaze asked.

"Will," she answered. "What is your definition of will, Kyoya? What drives you?" His eyes were sharp, and his gaze even more so. His answer was immediate.

"Irritation."

And she grinned because frankly, she expected no less of her student.

* * *

 _"You coming to watch the battle tonight, Ausil?_ " Dino asked as she held the phone to her ear, her other hand inspecting the ring. A simple design; a prototype, given by Hera to test.

"Ausiliatrice,"(and here, he winced, almost involuntarily expecting the harsh poke that usually followed this blunder) "And we'll be there," she promised, "but not with the rest of you."

 _"What do you mean?"_

"I'm always watching Dino," she said, a plain tease towards the man, said with flat humor, "you should know that."

 _"I bet you had a great time watching me running around and doing errands for Reborn then,"_ he sighed, and her lips barely slipped upward in amusement, _"but now that Iemitsu's taken over completely, then I can focus on helping Tsuna and watch the battles. Hey, did you and Iemitsu really fight? Are you okay?"_ She scrunched her nose, turning off the sidewalk and into an alleyway as she pocketed the ring completely.

"He's gossiping," she said sourly, scrunching her nose barely.

 _"I mean, I just heard from Reborn,"_ Dino admitted, causing Ausiliatrice to raise her eyebrows, if only slightly, _"but you aren't really hurt, are you?"_

"It was a discussion," she corrected. If it were a true fight? She honestly didn't know who would win, and she did not want to linger on such an annoying man.

She blinked, and then frowned slightly.

"Dino," she said calmly, "I'm going to have to let you go." And she ended the conversation, stepping back just as a mutilated body, nearly cut to chunks and pieces fell into the alley way, landing just before her. A strange, chuckle, no, far more giggle-like laughter, rang and bounced off the walls of the alleyway.

"What a coincidence," Prince the Ripper nearly sang, jumping down and landing easily in front of her, the body, the corpse (if it even fit that definition anymore), the only barrier between them, "to you run into _you_."

"You waited to drop the body," Ausiliatrice pointed out bluntly.

"I told you she noticed," Mammon drawled, appearing in waves of mist beside Belphegor. Her eyes, abyssal and never ending, shifted from Belphegor to the baby. And for a moment, when their eyes met, Mammon was hit with familiarity, instantly. A thought entered and passed just as quick.

(It was idiotic, after all, to make assumptions)

"Prince the Ripper," Belphegor introduced himself. Dipping his head and furling his hand in almost a mocking gesture of introductory.

"I know," Ausiliatrice said with a dip of her head, adding to Belphegor's haughtiness. "Ausiliatrice," she introduced herself, and then nodded towards the body, "I'm guessing you carved him for me specifically?"

"You appreciate it?" He asked, and she recognized it as a test. Almost, she saw with barely narrowed eyes, a threat.

"The art of it," she answered. And he giggled, and her hand relaxed, having been ready to draw a gun on her hip (her right hip, her left, untouched).

"You going to watch the prince's fight tonight to see more, then?" The boy asked, grinning widely and folding his arms behind his head.

"Of course," she said, allowing a small smirk and stepping clear over the body; the action forcing the two to separate and make way for her as she passed. "Wouldn't miss it."

She stopped however, when she was almost clear of the alley, and turned. She looked straight at Mammon, and they stared straight back (a reflection, in all aspects).

"Are you an Arcobaleno?" She asked boldly. Belphegor's grin dropped, and he looked down at his companion. Mammon remained, seemingly unchanged and unchallenged by the sudden accusation.

"No."

"Ah," she breathed out, her expression leading Mammon to believe that she didn't give into their blatant lie.

"Why do you ask?" It was a needless question, Mammon knew. But one they felt they needed to ask, looking up into those familiar, familiar eyes (even when, even when, really, they already knew whose they were). She shrugged, and turned on her heel.

"Just wondering," she said lightly, "if you were like my father."

(perhaps it wasn't idiotic after all, when your assumption is proven to be true)

* * *

"Ausiliatrice!" Nana said, looking up in surprise as the other woman walked into the room.

"How is he?" Ausiliatrice asked, looking over at Lambo, looking incredibly small, incredibly weak as the size of the bed nearly enveloped him, almost swallowing his tiny body completely.

"He's sleeping now," Nana said, growing tired again as Ausiliatrice sat in the empty chair beside the woman. "Haru and Kyoko, such sweet girls… they left just a while ago with Futa. Bianchi took Ipin with her to get some food and bring it back. Thank you," she said, looking at Ausiliatrice, putting a gentle hand on the other woman's knee (and at this, Ausiliatrice stiffened, but relaxed soon enough, yet still she was almost callous to the soft touch of a mother, "for coming to check on him."

"I came to visit you as well," Ausiliatrice admitted truthfully. She glanced over at Nana Sawada, taking in her features fully; tired eyes, lines around her mouth, usually always pulled upward, but now the corners of her lips were heavy and drooping. The luster of her hair seemed lost and vacant in the harsh light of the hospital, and her skin, absent of its glow. Sad, Ausiliatrice realized, was the word. Tired. Sad and tired, and frustrated as well. But that feeling was far more repressed than the others.

"Are you okay?" Ausiliatrice asked, almost hesitating before placing her hand over Nana's, still on Ausiliatrice's knee. Almost hesitant emotion showed in her eyes before her facial expression drooped forward, moving with the heavy sigh escaping from her lips. She spoke:

"Do you ever know about something, or rather… do you ever want to know something, but you love them too much to ask?"

Ausiliatrice thought back, years, to a similar conversation.

 _"What exactly do you do?" Vivian asked, looking up at Ausiliatrice, turning her head upwards as she laid on the other woman's chest. "You always have money, but I never see you work."_

 _Ausiliatrice blinked, not having expected this question. And she vocalized this thought._

 _"Why do I question it?" Vivian repeated, "Why shouldn't I? Look, we're dating aren't we?" And she continued before Ausiliatrice could think about it and properly answer, "So there should be communication, yes? You know what I do, so I want to know what you do," she finished with almost a pout._

 _Ausiliatrice remained silent, looking down at the bubbly red head, who had gained so much confidence in the year the two had been together._

 _"I… you wouldn't want to know," she admitted truthfully. But instead of sadness, as Ausiliatrice had expected, Vivian took on a hurt, yet still offended front. She took a breath however, and pushed herself up and off of Ausiliatrice. She small redhead pivoted, and then sat facing the taller woman._

 _"When you say things like that," Vivian said, looking down, and then up, into Ausiliatrice's eyes, "and you do, you say things like that a lot; when you say that, it makes me feel stupid, Ausiliatrice. It makes me feel like you don't trust me, it makes me feel dumb."_

 _And Ausiliatrice found herself shaking her head._

 _"You're not," she said firmly, and then found herself looking away, out the window of the apartment, "it's just…."_

 _"It's just what?" Vivian asked, sad once more._

 _I'm a killer, was the truth. I want to keep this world of blood, gore, weapons and tainted steel and stained money, separate from you. I want to keep you pure for as long as possible (and it wasn't was it? Not even vaguely, and even now, she knew this, but Ausiliatrice ignored this out of need), was what she wanted to say. But you shouldn't say that to a civilian, Parisian artist who just wished to live simple life with the woman she thought she loved._

 _There was so much blood on her hands, and she almost hesitated to touch her girlfriend's face in fear of staining her pale, freckled skin. But she did and pulled her forward gently until their foreheads were touching, softly pressed against the other._

 _"Please," she whispered, "just trust me. I'll tell you someday."_

But this was a lie. The words, the movement, the intimacy of the act.

Nana Sawada deserved better than a lie. But, it wasn't Ausiliatrice's place to tell her the truth.

"I can't relate," she said instead, allowing Nana to lean and rest her head on Ausiliatrice's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

(the lovers of killers lead a hard life, and share the torture with the killers themselves)

(in the end, blood is on everyone's hands, no matter how hard you try to scrub; if you look closely, you'll notice those who rub their hands too often)

(Damned spot, indeed)

* * *

 _"Once, I saw a bee drown in honey, and I understood."_

 ** _-Nikos Kazantzakis_**

* * *

 **BONUS/TREAT:**

"Hello everyone!" Haru announced as she is spotlighted, standing in front of a covered stage, "Welcome to a very special episode of Haru's Haru Interview! The author would like to thank all of her readers for being so wonderful and supportive! This segment was meant to be a treat for reaching 300 reviews, but in the time that it was proposed to when this is being posted the story has almost reached 400! She is overly ecstatic and hopes you continue to enjoy the story as much as she enjoys writing it!"

"And now," Haru said, smiling brightly and gesturing, "onto our very special show, where I get the honor of interviewing Miss Ausiliatrice!"

The curtain opened revealing Ausiliatrice, sitting calmly on the set of a talk show, sipping coffee quietly. She blinked, looking up at Haru and then to the audience.

"Thank you for having me," She said, dipping her head a bit, "I truly appreciate all the praise."

"So polite!" Haru clapped, then made her way to sit in the opposing seat of her guest. "Now, today's questions are special as well, because they are straight from the reviewers themselves! Are you ready, Miss Ausiliatrice?"

"Of course."

"Then let's get started!" Haru said happily, pulling note cards from behind the chair.

"Our first question is from Guest27," Haru read off, "and they ask, _If Ausil got to choose, what eye color would she like to have?_ " Ausiliatrice blinked, and hummed lightly.

"I would definitely enjoy a different eye color than I have now," she admitted with a small frown, "as it draws too much attention for my tastes." She paused, thinking again, and then answered. "Brown. Next question."

"Ah, Haru didn't expect that answer!" Ausiliatrice shrugged in response.

"I enjoy light brown colored eyes," she said simply, "and would rather have that than a unique color."

"Moving on," Haru said, satisfied with the explanation, "NinjaDemonAngel asks _: Does she have any hobbies or talents that would normally wouldn't be associated with her? Like knitting or watching horrible movies to make fun of. I know it's random.._." Haru trailed off however, looking over to see Ausiliatrice almost blushing.

"..w-well, Miss Ausiliatrice?" She asked carefully, not knowing how to push for the answer, "you do have to answer you know."

"…. soap operas. Particularly, Portuguese," Ausiliatrice answered quietly, jutting her head up and demanding, "Next question." Haru nodded, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Y-yes, Ma'am!" She quickly filed through the cards, finally settling on one, "Oh! A guest reviewer has multiple questions! The first is: _what would she rather wear; leather or jeans?"_ Ausiliatrice leaned back casually, taking a sip of her coffee and considering.

"It depends, honestly," she said, "Jeans are more flexible and breathable than leather, but leather has durability. They're both useful, but it depends on the job. I supposed blood wipes off leather easier…." she trailed off, putting a hand on her chin in consideration, her casual comment causing Haru to pale, "if you mean aesthetically, then I suppose I enjoy leather more."

"N-next: _what is her least favorite country?"_

"I dislike traveling in East Asia primarily," she answered, "but only because of a few bad experiences. I can't think of a country in particular, however, usually, I find something I enjoy everywhere."

"What a good answer!" Haru cued, "Their next question is: _If she 'magically' would turn out pregnant what would she name her baby and would she prefer a boy or a girl?_ Ah, how cute!"

Ausiliatrice quieted, thinking with a small frown.

"I suppose," she said after a while, "I would enjoy a girl. But the name would be decided between me and my partner."

"Oh? So you plan to raise a child with someone else?" Haru asked curiously.

"… next question, please."

"Ah, y-yes," Haru stammered a bit awkwardly, reading the card out loud, "their next question is: _I have no idea if you have written it anywhere but does she use nail polish and if yes, then what color?"_

"I do paint them when I have the time too, yes," Ausiliatrice replied, "and I tend to have darker colors, as I think it looks better with my skin tone. At the moment," she said, looking down, inspecting her nails, "they are a dark maroon."

"Very pretty!" Haru cooed, "I prefer bright colors, myself! And their final question is: _If Fuuta ranks the top hitman in the world what rank does Ausil get?_ Ooh," Haru said, becoming excited, "that's an interesting question that Haru wonders too!"

"I believe that's a question for Futa," Ausiliatrice answered coolly, taking along drink, "Next person."

"She avoids it so well…." Haru murmured and then nearly jumped to move on, "Here is another string of questions from Witch of Perception! I'll go through them, and you can just answer them. Is that okay, Miss Ausiliatrice?"

"Fine with me."

" _What kinds of fashions do you like?"_

"Typically, simplistic. Although I favor wedges when it comes to heels, and leather jackets."

" _What's your favorite color?"_

"I've never considered."

" _What's your favorite poem or song?"_

"I've always enjoy Maya Angelou's work."

" _What kind of shampoo does Ausil use?"_

"I'm not picky about brands, but generally, I'll look for frizz-control."

 _"Is Ausil a righty or a lefty? She seems like the kind of person who would cultivate ambidexterity, but does she have a natural go-to?"_

"I suppose I have developed ambidexterity…. but I favor my left."

 _"What does her handwriting look like/what're its characteristics?"_ At this, Ausiliatrice grew slightly embarrassed again.

"… messy. Next question."

 _"What's her nightwear?"_

"I wore Mateus's shirts a lot while we lived together."

 _"What kind of swimsuit would Ausil go for? I feel like chances are even on a sleek wet suit, and a classy black bikini."_

"It depends. I suppose I wouldn't mind a bikini. But if I want to hide scars, then yes, I'd go for a wet suit."

" _Sweet, salty, bitter, or savory, for food preference?"_

"Bitter," she said, taking a drink of her black coffee.

"Wonderful!" Haru clapped her hands together, "So many interesting answers! We just have two more left. Ah, this one is a bit personal…. VinniVVicci says _, Dear Ausiliatrice: Would you consider getting together with Xaxnus or Dino?"_

The woman's face scrunched slightly, showing her distaste for the question and it invasiveness.

"I suppose I would consider becoming romantically involved again, yes," she answered carefully, "but the relationship would take time and effort. For now, I am not looking for any relationship of that kind."

"Ah, so it depends on the person, then?" Haru asked for clarification.

"Of course," Ausiliatrice answered back blatantly, "Next question, please."

"This one is our last question! SUGInato asks, _Which kid (teens included) does Ausiliatrice think is the cutest (or whatever she would say)?_ Now, of course, when it comes to the cutest of the teens," Haru said, blushing slightly and turning away to hold her cheeks, "obvious you would pick Ha-"

"Chrome Dokuro," Ausiliatrice answered coolly.

"Hahi!?" Haru said, whipping her head to look at the woman. "She hasn't been introduced yet! Can she say that?" she asked looking off stage, "Can you say that?" She asked, looking to Ausiliatrice again. The woman shrugged.

"I just did."

"B-but you two haven't met yet!" Haru said, panicking a bit, "Won't you answering that indicate a relationship that has yet to introduced? Can't that be considered a spoiler?!" Ausiliatrice shrugged again.

"I suppose if you say it like that, then yes. But what does that matter?"

"We can't have spoilers!" Haru said, looking around and then to the audience nervously, "Um, we have to end the show! That's all the time we have!"

"I don't see the problem," Ausiliatrice said with a hair flip, "I do what I want, spoilers or not."

"The author would like to thank everyone again for all the support!" Haru called as the curtain quickly closed, leaning out to be seen before getting cutting off, "This has been a special episode of Haru Haru Interview! Thank you for wa –

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Okay, so NEXT chapter will end the Varia arc. Because holy shit I realized just how long this arc is and just how much stuff I planned to fit into it. So, next chapter will be Part 3, and THEN will be "If He Had Lived" and then Reborn's chapter. Because I will literally die if I try to finish this tonight. And I don't want to overwhelm you guys with too long chapters, compared to my usual ones._

 _I hope you enjoyed the bonus! I had fun with it, haha, and I loved all the questions. If you're interested, and want to do it again, I wouldn't mind doing it, or perhaps something similar for when we reach 500 reviews (because you guys are great, and because of that, I know it will happen in no time). Maybe I could do the most popular/wanted AU? Like a reviewer has been talking to me about, Ausiliatrice in another series and perhaps a peek at what that would look like? Let me know what you think!_

 _ **Also, would you guys be interested in seeing the playlist I have for some characters/pairing for this story?** I have one for Ausil herself, Ausiliatrice's and Mateus's relationship, and also one for Xanxus pertaining to this. Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing them, and I'll post them! _

_I got to update because both my studio class got cancelled today due to construction so yay! I'll try to update this weekend and finally finish this arc, lmao._

 **Review Response:**

 **Guest:** Wow, thanks for all the great questions! Hope you enjoyed the answers! And I love your description of Xanxus, because it's so accurate. Lmao. And it's hilarious, because he does eventually notice and it and gets pissed. Oh, that poor poor spoiled brat. And really, I think Xanxus's age depends on Xanxus himself? Like, if you go by the definition of "how many years since Xanxus was born" then he would be 24, but I guess he didn't really mentally in those either years? I can see Xanxus himself not caring, or saying whatever age he feels like. So who really knows. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** I'm glad you're excited for the AU chapters! The first part of Matues's will be posted soon, and then Reborn's so get HYPE. I'm so glad that you like the characterization! That's something I sometimes worry about, so I'm glad that I'm succeeding in that respect for you. And the green turned out amazing! I love it so much. And yas, chrome hair is so pretty (and now, I'm seeing Chrome with chrome hair, and I'm in love with her all over again). Thanks for the reviewing!

 **Guest:** Hope you like the rain battle next chapter and more Squalo and Ausiliatrice interacting! Thanks for the review!

 **Blacksky:** Bruh, my friend, my pal, I'm telling you, my man, you need to chill bout that. Like, for my own sanity and yours. And what are you talking about, she's an awesome example. I kind of was interested in Dinaus though, because it reminded me of the Greek God Dionysus. Ah, wouldn't that be kickass if their ship names were Greek gods? Like Xanxus and Ausiliatrice's ship would totes be Ares, the god of war. If anyone shipped Ausiliatrice and Squalo, their name would be Poseidon. Get back to me on this, I'm on a role.

Bruh, I'm living for salty Ausil, she gets to be savage and lay it all out, and she's getting more and more like that as time goes on. And haha, about Iemitsu, you kind of got your wish? And I definitely love her relationship with Hibari; she treats him with honesty and respect, and in turn receives the same. They almost have a sibling relationship? And it's V cute.

And yes, she does know who killed her mother, and is well aware that it was Esmeralda's family. This is actually brought up on the next canon! chapter, so you'll have to wait for now.

I've mostly been in the pink/purple range with my hair before, and I loved that, but I'm also absolutely in love with this green I have now. And I'm pumped for the AUs too! Someone else expressed interest in a Hogwarts one, so I might actually play with that.

Thanks for the amazingly long review!

 **Guest:** Thanks! I'm glad that you liked the way I portrayed Xanxus. I had a lot of fun writing him.

 **Random Reader:** Aw, thanks for so much for all your kind words. I definitely put a lot more into this story than some of my others, because it's important to me, and I know to some others too. Thanks so much for the review and the love! (And I'm glad you like her name too, lmao)

 **Guest27:** Haha, glad that I got you out of bed! Also, glad you liked their interactions! I had a lot of fun writing them, haha. Yeah, they are pretty cat-like, aren't they, lmao. I love how Ausiliatrice it totally unaware of the extent of Xanxus's obsession. Like, homegirl is observant, but not in that respect. Sigh.

Oh, that's interesting! Right away, I see an opportunity for her being born into One Piece (being Hawkeye's bastard daughter, and inheriting his eyes) and possibly for Naruto as well (being a bastard of a Uchiha and a Cloud nin?). So I may play with that, if you have any specific suggestions! I'd be glad to discuss. Thanks for the review!

 **Question:**

 **(This one's a little deep, lmao) What's a thought you have often, but never act on and regret not doing so?**

"Pretty Girl" by Hayley Kiyoko really illustrates this thought, but like, I see so many beautiful, pretty girls pass me everyday, and I always regret not saying something to them. It's such a little thing, but I think about it a lot. It's like, my resolution to compliment girls more and spread positivity and confidence, because I know it makes my day when another pretty girls compliments me, and I want to do that for others. And a lot of times, I do, but I want to straight up tell girls that they are pretty, going beyond me just liking their shoes or hair. Like, girl, you are beautiful and I'm attracted and hella queer, please flirt with me. _Please_.


	21. Lesson 21: To Apologize Part 3

**Chapter 21: Her Mother Taught Her to Apologize Part 3**

* * *

 _"Lions don't lose sleep over the opinion of sheep."_

 ** _-Imam al-Shafi'i_**

* * *

He didn't even have the decency to be surprised when he walked into his home to find the woman sitting casually on his couch. She looked over at him momentarily, but then continued to scan the pages of the book in her hands. A moment, a page flip, a fold of the corner of the page she was on, and he had her full attention.

(and what an exhilarating feeling that was, he reveled, despite still healing from his early lessons with the woman)

"I scouted out the school, and the battle is taking place inside. They've taken precautions, due to the last battle's... _outcome_." Steel eyes met abyssal ones with challenge.

"Which means?"

"The onlookers will be placed in a secured location and watch the battle on monitors." The distaste, almost offense on his face was immediate.

"You expect me to crowd?"

"No," she said, slipping her phone out of her pocket and skimming through her contacts, "I expect you to wait for me, while I make a call." And he bristled at this, but relented, deciding against attacking her in this moment. And at this, her lip barely quirked as she rose and passed him without conflict.

It seemed her lessons were sticking after all.

* * *

He scrunched his nose, watching as her fingers carefully pressed into the keyboard, hearing her speak foreign words to his ears with much irritation. His eyes followed the cord, leading from the laptop to the television he had his committee set in the reception room.

"Thank you, Daedalus," and with this, she snapped her phone shut, finishing her key-pressing, and an image flickered into existence, both on the screen of her laptop and the television. She leaned back from the couch, but Kyoya remained standing behind it with crossed arms.

"I wouldn't expect you to know such a herbivorous skill," he nearly scoffed.

"I don't," she responded, barely turning her head, "I said earlier that it was beneficial to know the strengths of teammates," She said coolly, side eyeing him, "and this is one of those times where having comrades comes in handy."

"Besides," she said, watching as Shamal arrived, frowning with almost an exasperated expression realizing that she had made the connection with the monitors just in time to see him aggressively berated for groping the two judges. She sighed, disappointed but not surprised, causing Kyoya to look over at her. She continued:

"This way, you don't have to crowd in order to witness this fight. It should be interesting," she noted, her eyes going to the blonde on the screen, "Belphegor's a renowned genius. A formidable opponent. It's almost sad… " she muttered, her eyes then going to Shamal's student. Kyoya slightly frowned, understanding without her having to complete her thought.

"So," Hibari almost purred, his eyes lighting with interest, "strong then?"

"An interesting opponent for you to fight, surely," Ausiliatrice commented, almost amused as he moved, sitting on the arm rest on the opposite end of the couch, "with your drastically different styles. I almost question who would win." Immediately he took on an offended front.

"Me," he grumbled, "obviously." And she simply hummed in response, earning almost a growl from her student.

The match began with an explosion.

"You can punish them after the battle," she promised her student, easily picking up on the bloodlust spiking at the thought of damage to his school, "just watch for now. It will be beneficial, for when you challenge Belphegor lately."

And undoubtedly, now that she has placed her own doubt in his ability, he would (and he would then, rightly, prove her wrong, and in turn, prove himself).

She then took her time, taking in both the battle and her student's reaction to it.

Hibari Kyoya was often underestimated; it terms of strength, not at all, but in intelligence? Many people would like to think a beast was just that. Simple and archaic. But this block was due to fear that the beast was more than that. And always, they were. They were much more than their strength, for that power is contrived of many things.

Ambition, passion, irritation, intelligence: all of these things, and so much more make Hibari Kyoya strong. And adding to that list would only make him more so, which was her reason for tutoring him. Patience, she thought, would be a lovely virtue to add to this list, and it seemed that she had, if only by a few degrees.

She watched his reaction to the fight and the seemingly impossible feats that Belphegor was pulling; and she saw the irritation when he hit a block. Already, he had easily figured that Gokudera Hayato was being tracked by Belphegor. This was a simple tactic when hunting, and was easy for both of them to pick up on, long before Gokudera did (it was part of their personalities, to be attentive when being tracked, when being followed, because hunters hated to becomes the hunted, made sure to make quick of turning the tables when this realization is made). This was figured out easily, however the next riddle intertwined with Belphegor's play?

"What is that? Wind cutting?" He asked, seeing cuts appear on Gokudera even after the knives were thrown, clearly missing but still somehow damaging.

"It doesn't matter what it is," Ausiliatrice said easily, earning a quirk of an eyebrow and the curious flicker of steel eyes, "You don't need know what the technique is," she restated, shifting to cross her legs, "you only need to figure out how to counter it."

"Gokudera Hayato isn't like us," Kyoya responded. And she blinked and shrugged, giving him this.

"I suppose he is Shamal's student…" she muttered, thinking of how the man himself would handle such a fight. Certainly not with a brutal and straight forward approach like she, herself, would implement. He was far more of an intellect than her, and tended to map out as opposed to go straight in. A difference both converted and dealt with, and thus had different styles. Opposite in fact.

But Ausiliatrice couldn't help but consider this tendency to overthink to be a burden more than anything, especially when facing another opponent who held the same mindset. However, Belphegor seemed to abandon this trait without losing this high level of thinking; forgoing overthinking and replacing it with a childlike demeanor. He, she realized, treated everything like a game, and won with ease because of this. Forgoing stakes that usually stopped people from truly realizing the extent of a situation, he played with the idea of death and utilized it with glee.

She supposed this skill came with experience (and so rarely, was it found in such a pure form, as with Belphegor), and therefore it was unfair to hold this against Gokudera. But still, this translated as a severe disadvantage for the boy.

The most interesting fights to watch, she concluded, were between two people who acted as reflections. The most frustrating to fight and be a participant in, however, had the exact same criteria. Unless a crack was placed into the mirror, neither opponent could move forward with efficacy.

But oh, did Gokudera make a grave mistake when he shattered this mirror completely.

Ausiliatrice leaned forward, forgoing her casual position for one of interest, seeing Belphegor's, demeanor, stance, _everything_ change the moment his own blood dared to escape from his veins and stain his porcelain skin, dripping down from his fingers as paled hands, now stained so brightly, clawed at his wound, a jumbled mix of blonde hair, pale fingers, the glint of his tiara, and blood, blood, blood.

Kyoya even leaned forward slightly, and she saw as his hand moved to his hip, wanting to retrieve his weapon. The intense spike in bloodlust was even evident through the screen, the two predators not even having to be present to recognize one of their own emerging so abruptly.

This truly, was the definition of danger, Ausiliatrice thought. This, truly, was an animal, a beast, pure and unaltered in this fresh form. This was why he was let into the Varia at such a young age, she realized, this is truly the definition of Prince the Ripper.

And this both exhilarated and saddened Ausiliatrice all at once.

"He's dead," Kyoya said, narrowing his eyes and noticing Gokudera Hayato not reacting as he should, "that herbivore should run now before it's too late."

"It already is," Ausiliatrice said, gathering herself and leaning back once more with a frown her face.

"Not one mistake…" Kyoya muttered, watching Belphegor's movements with intense interest and excitement. Ausiliatrice was sure, completely, that he already had plans to track this new opponent down, no matter the outcome of the battle.

(an outcome they could already see, all too crystal)

She almost winced, seeing Gokudera draw more blood, limiting his chances of survival further. Truly, it was a hopeless situation. Their positions had switched from earlier; Gokudera was playing a game of survival, and Belphegor was taking this battle seriously. Ausiliatrice even made a verbal sound of disagreement when Gokudera entered a dead end.

"Idiot…" Kyoya agreed, even going as far to frown slightly at this decision. His eyebrows then knit together, seeing how Gokudera Hayato froze suddenly. And then, a click.

"Wires," he said suddenly, coming to this conclusion only seconds after Ausiliatrice's keen eyes picked up on vague glints on the monitor. Then, a scrunched of his nose.

"His weapons are inadequate for this," he sniffed, and jutted his head, clearly seeing an easy option if he, himself, were in the same situation.

"Those who fight in mid-range," Ausiliatrice commented, "are often the most curious." She herself was either close or long range, primarily. And therefore looked at these types with a keen eye and inquisitiveness for their technique.

"Ah," she said, relieved when Gokudera found a way to slacken the wires, and then asked her student, "you've extended your range, haven't you?"

And he grumbled, but this translated as a response easily.

"It's over?" He said when the smoke and debris cleared, seeing Gokudera standing and Belphegor on the ground. His expression was that of a pouting child, disappointed that his entertainment ended so quickly.

Ausiliatrice was vaguely surprised at the outcome, but relieved. And then, made a mistake in this assumption and cursed quietly, seeing Gokudera's sluggish movements in retrieving the ring from Belphegor.

Predators, cornered and bleeding, after all, were at their most treacherous stage.

"What a volatile instinct," Ausiliatrice murmured, seeing Belphegor's almost mindless struggle against the severely weakened Gokudera.

Pathetic, Kyoya almost commented, but then thought better. He realized, with a frown, that this instinct was one he possessed. And he sneered, disliking this comparison.

And this confusion soon turned to anger, complete rage when the explosions began decimating _his beautiful school._ Even in the reception room, they felt the tremors, and he stood abruptly, turning on his heel and storming out of the room.

And Ausiliatrice only gave a small glance at her student in reaction, and then looked back at the screen, now filled with static. She frowned. And then rose, decided to follow her student, using the bodies he left in his wake as bread crumbs, stepping over the ones she had left in her own path when they arrived earlier;

she wanted to know the outcome of the battle after all.

(she wouldn't be surprised in the slightest to find both sides without a storm)

She hated these battles, she thought to herself, and their contribution to the needless deaths of children.

* * *

Pleasantly, she was surprised to find Gokudera alive, but injured. She noted Belphegor as well, carried by Gola Mosca. Breathing, she noted vaguely. She looked between the two groups and put together the pieces easily enough; Gokudera Hayato wisely valued his life above victory, and fled. Belphegor got lucky, and survived.

Tsunayoshi, at least, looked happy that his friend was alive. As did Shamal, she noted, but was this a loss they could afford, with the forfeit of the sky ring? Dino had explained to her the situation that transpired the night before, but before she could pursue this line of thought further, she was reminded of the situation at hand;

which was, her student attacking Leviathan of the Varia. Well, she supposed, attacked was too strong of a word, and inaccurate. Making a fool of was far more accurate.

"I'll start with you," Kyoya stated, looking livid and brutal as usual as he gazed down at Leviathan. She cocked her head as she stepped out from the hallway, considering whether or not she should stop him.

"Ausiliatrice!" Dino said, his head snapping to her. The Varia looked over, interrupted from where they were evaluating Hibari to make note of her presence. "Where have you been? And I thought you were going to keep Hibari away!?"

"I never said that," she deadpanned, leaning casually against the wall, and looking back over as Squalo stepped forward from his group.

"Voooi," he drawled lowly, eyeing Hibari, tearing his eyes away from curiously looking at Ausiliatrice, "How many times should I slash you open?"

"Are you next?" Kyoya responded, stepping past Ausiliatrice and positioning himself neatly in front of her. Ausiliatrice looked between the two, picturing their fight with an amused air, ignoring the warning from Janus's minions, advising against the two fighting.

"Ausiliatrice, please," Dino nearly begged, looking away from where he was reassuring the kids, "You're his tutor, you're supposed to stop him from attacking people!" Dino relented, holding the sides of his head. He sighed, taking in her casual lean and overall lack of apathy to the situation with exasperation. She shrugged.

"That's not in the job description. And besides," she said with a slight raise of her head, pinning him with her gaze, "I'm volunteering." And he groaned loudly in response. Squalo however, faltered in his demeanor, taking in this information with surprise, and then storing it. Dino gave Ausiliatrice another exasperated look, which she ignored, opting to watch Yamamoto Takeshi instead approach her student and put himself between Kyoya and Squalo.

She briefly wondered if this was an idiotic move on this part, but allowed him a moment to justify his actions with words. She blinked, her mouth barely quirking with amusement as he apprehended her student. What improvement, she thought with excitement, but this deterred as she looked back over at Squalo.

Would it, she questioned, be enough, however? She allowed Reborn to sedate Hibari, and instead focused on Squalo's reaction, the kid's conversation not raising interest with her, only vaguely acknowledging Reborn baiting a possibly fight with Kyoya's rival. Rokudo Mukuro, was his name, she recalled vaguely, but held no interest in this person beyond this point.

She looked away from Squalo, however, as her student decided by his own will to leave.

"Don't," he addressed Yamamoto Takeshi, "lose to that one over there before my turn comes around." And with that, Hibari Kyoya made his exit. Perhaps, she thought with humor (pride?) the importance of comradeship had barely brushed against his priorities after all.

Her eyes met Squalo's once more; meaningful, a message, clear and concise,

and then she turned on her heel as well, making her exit.

"You going after him?" Dino asked, watching her, Squalo watching as well before addressing his own opponent loudly.

"No," she corrected, "I'm going on another date," and she winked, and could have sworn that he nearly fainted from surprise. Shamal looked over as well, putting a hand to his chest, playing offense.

"Without me? I thought we were drinking buddies, my dear," He teased, smiling lightly, clearly relived, relieved, happy that his student did not perish as he thought (as they all thought) he would.

"You're her drinking buddy?!" Dino accused, pointing a finger at the older man. "And she hasn't killed you yet?"

"You offend me, Cavallone," Shamal said with a faux frown, "I consider myself to be a gentlemen, wouldn't you agree, Au- And she's gone," he sighed, slumping a bit, looking to see a vacant spot where the woman once was. They turned, noticing the Varia to be gone as well, having left after Squalo's promise of his opponent's demise. Dino ran a head through his hair, sighing in vague disbelief, once again being reminded of how little he knew about his body guard. He put this aside however, and went to comfort the kids.

Shamal turned as well, but nearly froze, immediately meeting oh-so familiar, abyssal and endless eyes. Although, at a lower level than he was used to.

"What's this about you two being drink buddies, Shamal?" the Arcobaleno asked, all too sweetly.

It must be in their blood, he decided at that moment, to have the tendency to strike this much fear into his poor, poor heart.

(he was getting old, he realized, but with a look at the kids, the next generation? Perhaps, the world was in good hands. But ah, the doctor tended to be cynical by nature, didn't he?)

* * *

She dropped to the ground, meeting him beneath the tree, in the manner of a leopard, dropping down from a tree with their kill; a movement of elegance and grace, but also a vigilant display of danger. He had also taken note of her elegance. But he had never wanted, nor displayed that quality.

"You never fucking said you were tutoring one of the brats!" he accused her the moment she met the ground, "Neutral my ass!"

"I'm not actively fighting," he returned smoothly, "and my reason for taking Hibari Kyoya under my wing is personal; it has nothing to do with the battles."

"Oh, fuck that," Squalo snapped, "that Arcobaleno put you up to it, didn't he?" He nearly stepped back against the tree however at the sudden change in her mood the moment his accusation left his lips. "Fucking hell," he breathed out, "What's your problem?!" She nearly scrunched her face, crossing her arms.

"I make my own decisions, and tutoring Kyoya happened to be one of them," she said, and he easily translated, _move the fuck on from the subject_. And he was a wise enough man to do so.

"Why the hell did you even call me out, huh?" He asked swiftly moving on.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," she said, exacting the same swiftness, "I wanted your opinion on him."

"The sword brat?" He asked, allowing confusion to penetrate his expression, "The fuck about him? I'm going to slaughter that kid tomorrow night. End of the fucking line for him." She pursed her lips, if barely.

"Don't you want to train the next sword emperor?" A moment; and then he exploded.

"The fuck are you suggesting, huh?!" He said, volume increasingly drastically, "You trying to tell me what do?!"

"I don't," she snapped, shutting him up, "tell people what to do. I don't enjoy it, and therefore don't inflict that on others," she tutted, crossing her arms and turning her head from him, reviewing their meeting place. Her eyes traveled form the tree line to the quaint shine. Thinking.

"I was suggesting it," she reworded. "And I considered that this thought I had might be of interest to you." He snorted, gruffly.

"Like a fucking twerp like that could handle real sword training," he scoffed.

(But the seed was planted. It just needed rain to grow)

A moment of silence passed between the two. And Squalo shifted almost uncomfortably at this lull, realizing how caught off guard he had been at her proposal. An idea struck, and he held back a grin, wanting (childishly, childishly) to get her back.

"My shitty boss is fucking obsessed with you, you know?"

Ausiliatrice blinked, looking back over at him

"What." And he sputtered in response, knowing vaguely of her ignorance, but not guessing it to be to this extent.

"You don't even fucking notice?!" A moment, and he allowed her that, and then a light hum.

"I suppose I've never paid much attention to matters of this nature," she admitted, recalling the countless times Shamal had informed her that she was being flirted with, multiple times on multiple occasions as multiple bars around the world. She hummed again. A slow blink, reviewing the few instances where she had interacted with his boss. A thought.

"Are you sure that it's _me_ that he's obsessed with?" She asked carefully after a beat. Squalo hummed gruffly, looking at her with inquisitiveness.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Your boss…" she said, trailing off and forming her words carefully, "he's a man abstained from power. Something that has obviously has been given and torn away from him too many times. Repeatedly. I heard he was originally from the streets?" she asked suddenly, eyes lighting up with curiosity, almost hopefully grasping at familiarity, "Is that true?"

"… yeah."

"I see," she murmured. A moment. And then she moved on, not giving much thought to this topic any more than what had already be implemented in her mind. This, signaled her retreat, and she restated the topic she had called him out to discuss:

"I hope you consider my suggestion."

"Fuck off!" He yelled, scoffing again at the absurdity of the thought.

"Emperors are overthrown all the time," she said easily while walking away, sending almost a playful look back at him, "and you might as well have control over who takes your place."

(because, they both were keen, mindful of the unawareness of when they would die)

(he only had one hand left, he might as well use it to guide the next generation)

* * *

Glass shattered violently against the wall, splattering Levi, hunkered underneath, having ducked just in time, with shards and remains of alcohol.

Xanxus stood, red eyes scanning the room with fire, in the open doorway.

"Where the fuck is he?"

The three other occupants remained silent, even Bel, wounds wrapped and resting on the couch, looked away, his usual playfulness absent for this situation. He was a genius, after all, and knew better not to engage his boss when in such a volatile state. Especially when the captain wasn't around to equate the situation. Then again, Bel thought, turning and hiding a grin, that was what put Boss in such a pissy mood in the first place, wasn't it?

"He was called out," Mammon called easily, not looking up from the paper they were studying, "by that woman."

And with this, Xanxus's eyes fell to flame once more; another shot at Leviathan, and he turned once more, leaving the three in his wake.

"Wonder what that was about," Bel mused with a grin, going back to admiring the ring on his finger as Leviathan shakily stood.

"It's not our issue," Mammon concluded, looking back at their failed (dammit) attempt to uncover the identity of their own opponent. But despite frequent attempts, Mammon was left with a block, and two simple letters:

C.D.

(this person, whoever they were, was just having fun with them, weren't they? But this also indicated skill, did it not? And this brought vague excitement to Mammon; they supposed they could use this opportunity to sharpen their claws. They doubted that their opponent, unknown to them or not, would provide that much of a challenge. They could always hope that this C.D. would be interesting)

(Mammon wouldn't be risking anything in making this assumption)

* * *

She felt pain, immensely. Her right eye throbbed excessively, and a feeling of invasiveness, uncomfortableness stemmed from this. This eye, this cursed her to the bare thoughts and intentions of others as it frantically looked about the room, white lab coats blaring violently and reflecting off the blank almost metallic walls.

The only color in the room seemed to be red, violent against the austerity of its surroundings. And all of this color stemmed from one man.

A hand gripped her shoulder, tightly and crude words were spoken to her. She was shaking, violently, as was the man, his large muscles under dark skin quivering with pain as he fought back against her. His blood dripped from the table he was strapped to, metallic, metallic and cold, and his bindings, thick and tight, digging into his skin, and _hers too because she could feel this_.

Wounds littered his body, and her hand was shaking, holding the weapon responsible. He screamed out, rough voice yelling and body baring against the straps, straining and straining; the men, fearful of this beast, went to push him down further, scared of his strength, of the possibility of such a monster breaking free.

But why, she thought, would ithey risk attempting to cage such a force of nature in the first place?

She witnessed his right eyes flicker between soft brown and violent red, back and forth, flicker, flicker, brown and red, brown and red.

And she realized she was screaming too, she felt these men push her shoulder down, and shards of a perception that did not belong to her.

She saw memories:

a tall woman, looking up with strangely abyssal eyes, cupping her face gently and whispering soft words of comfort. A man, similar facial structure to the one strapped to the table, to the one whose memories she was intruding on, laughing, skin crinkling beneath his eyes. She saw the woman again, countless times, numerous flickerings of the same woman, and then the man again, and then smiling faces of all different colors and cultures, and flickerings, flickerings, of spots of happiness and love, and love and love,

and they both screamed out in pain again,

and she felt as if she were stepping onto sacred grounds, she felt that she should burn for doing so. These were not her memories to see,

and this scene she was dreaming now didn't even belong to her.

Chrome Dokuro woke with start, cold sweat on her brow. Breathing heavy, her hand went to her right eye – no, she corrected herself, her right eye socket, empty and covered by her collapsed eyelid. Although no longer there, the pain from the dream – memory, she corrected, almost lingered. She shifted, pulling her knees up and hugging them, looking around the vast and aged room she had been given to sleep in. Her eye went to table, where the mist ring sat, and reflected passively in the small bit of moonlight intruding. The couch she slept on croaked at this small movement, testifying to its age, and then silence encompassed the room.

Chrome took a breath, long and shaking, just as her body was even now that the dream (memory, memory, she corrected) had passed.

 _"Chrome..."_ A voice spoke from the recesses of her mind.

"Mukuro-sama…." she answered back, vaguely whispering his name as a prayer to the empty room.

 _"I apologize,"_ he said, careful in his choice of words, and she could feel an air of hesitation (of shock? Of apathy?) to his words spoken intimately in her mind, _"for what you saw…. I didn't mean for it to transfer."_

"It's fine, Mukuro-sama," she reassured him, "I'm fine with sharing your burdens."

At this statement, he was silent.

"If you don't mind…" she said, hesitant and still lingering, "who… who was that man?" And silence met her once more, but she knew he was present (as always, as always) and attentive. She allowed him this, patient. Loyal. He spoke:

 _"A memory,"_ he said at last, _"and not one that you need to be reliving, my dear Chrome. Please, go back to sleep."_

"Yes, Mukuro-sama…" and her words almost seemed untruthful, her mind very much still lingering on the mysterious man,

and the woman that man seemed to cling to in times of great pain. Her image wafted in Chrome's mind, still fresh from the intrusion of her savior's memories, of his nightmares.

She wanted, she thoughts vaguely before drifting back into blissful, dreamless sleep (Mukuro would make sure of this), she wanted, Chrome resolved, someone to think warmly of her as this man thought of this woman.

Even in times of torture.

(And God, and God, and God, was he tortured. Mukuro, often, remembered this)

(It was selfish to think that a ghost only hovered around one person)

* * *

"Are you kidding?" Shamal responded to Reborn's blunt question, "Esmeralda would rise from hell and kill me herself. Hell, Ausiliatrice herself would smite me before that woman even stirred in her grave." A scoff, and then another drink.

"I'd be a fool to try anything with her," Shamal continued, and then side eyed the small figure sitting next to him at the bar, "but why the sudden claim? You never took any interest in her before, right?"

"You know my reasoning, Shamal," Reborn answered evenly. At this, the doctor sighed.

"It's not like you, to back off," he mused, stirring his drink absently. And the hitman's mouth pressed into a firm line at this.

"How long?"

"Have we been 'drinking buddies'?" Shamal clarified, giving almost a teasing smile as he looked over. He then hummed, putting a hand on his chin. "Damn. I guess since she was sixteen, seventeen? It was before Mateus, that's for sure…" and he trailed off, thinking.

"Mateus?" Reborn asked, running the name through the records of his head.

"An… old partner," Shamal said with a frown, "dead now. Got caught up in the whole deal with the Estraneo," and this, with a sneer, "Shame, really. They were a good couple, worked well together. In love, I'd say," he commented with a softer look. Reborn looked down at the bar, almost frowning.

He had been aware of her partner, but had been lacking the intimacy of their relationship.

"I really shouldn't be telling you this, you know," Shamal pointed out, side eyeing Reborn. A small sigh from Reborn, and he nearly winced at how it squeaked.

"I know."

* * *

"You've been in love before, haven't you?" Abyssal eyes turned, meeting green, forested and muted, but still shining with wonder and intelligence; this trait, Ausiliatrice noted, was one Bianchi shared with her brother.

"You're annoying, you know?" Ausiliatrice answered, almost huffing, but allowing herself to sit down on the roof. Bianchi sat as well, but at a pleasant, respectable distant. She smiled, easy.

"You didn't answer my question," Bianchi noted.

"Have you?" Ausiliatrice shot back.

"I'd like to think I am," Bianchi said truthfully, "it would be nice, wouldn't it? It's nice," she repeated, smiling, her eyes soft as well, "to be in love."

Ausiliatrice hummed, and found her hand at her necklace, gently turning the ring between fingertips.

"Yes," she answered Bianchi's question suddenly, "I have."

"How did you know?" Bianchi asked, looking up from where she had been watching Ausiliatrice play with the necklace (his necklace, his mothers, a reminder).

"I didn't, at first. And now?"

This awareness followed her constantly, but it was no haunting; no, she welcomed this reminder and wore it warmly.

"I wonder," Bianchi stated, "what kind of person someone like you would fall in love with?" And this hum was airy and mystical.

"A person like me, huh?" Ausiliatrice said with vague humor, "Meaning?"

"Oh, you know," Bianchi figured, "serious, brooding, strong. You two are really just like each other – " and Ausiliatrice scrunched her features and turned to voice her disagreement, but Bianchi then took a different turn - "but so completely different at the same time. I just wish," she said with a frown, "that you two would realize this and talk. But I understand that this is just who you are…"

"Warm," Ausiliatrice said suddenly, listing qualities as her hand retracted from her necklace, "vibrant, soft, a great smile," and at this, she smiled herself, "caring in every way." And Bianchi just stared over at her curiously.

"What?"

"You asked what kind of person I would fall in love with," Ausiliatrice answered simply, and continued, "laughing, happy. Strong, incredibly strong and annoying. Persistent," she said, side eyeing Bianchi once more, "but happy." And Bianchi smiled once again, seeing this gentleness reflected in Ausiliatrice's usually cold and unreflective eyes (not cold, she corrected herself, but guarded).

"They sound like a wonderful person," Bianchi moved, looking just as Ausiliatrice was across the quaint skyline of the town. And in response Ausiliatrice smiled, slightly pained, but relieving, reliving.

"He was."

* * *

His mind that day, he recalled, had been quite scattered. Quite understandable, really, seeing that _that_ was the day that his power reached its full potential, and that his captors and tormentors succeeded, only for the success to be the trigger to their demise. So yes, after murdering his tormentors in a blind rage, bent up pain of dying repeatedly and the resentment of being forced to retain and use this power constantly, one could say that his mind was rather scattered.

He recalled, vaguely, standing in the middle of mutilation and blood, and wanted to escape. To leave. To be free. Secondarily, he strove for revenge. Against the mafia, against family, against the very world that put him and others, others, recalled, thinking of the other children (and him, the man, this hazy image of warmth and dark skin? But there was much pain attached to that image, and so this was pushed to the back of his already scattered mind), and not wanting to be alone. And so, he made it his first task to find familiarity,

not finding it in the strange woman he encountered, and wanting to move on, despite knowing that she wasn't one of them,

but then what was she then? For there was a vague tug when he first saw her, but this brought a keen spurt of pain and therefore was pushed aside and repressed.

And so he moved on did not give thought this until a considerable amount of time he passed, until he could properly sort through his memories of that place.

And with this resurgence of memories; he felt pain.

He felt guilt. And he remembered this man and he recalled kindness. Warmth, and so much of it, despite how much pain and hurt accompanied these memories.

He remembered the scientist (his own _family)_ forcing him to test his skill of possession on this man, and this man, for some unforgivable reason, being the only subject so far that hadn't died as a result of possession. He was strong, Mukuro understood, but often wished that he wasn't, wishing to release this man from the pain they both shared,

(he remembered hearing their captors talk of harmony, and resilience, but this was lost to him as a child)

but through this connection of pain, they had established more connections as well. And so Mukuro wasn't really surprised when he had stumbled into the man's mind while in a fitful sleep, seeking warmth that he could only find in the strange man. At this point, when this occurred, they were well into possession experiments, and they were truly connected. But the force of this connection left it fractured and impure; so much pain involved, and there was a matter of intrusion, and invasion of minds. Mukuro had no choice in the matter, but there was still so much guilt in the mind of a child.

(And where was that guilt now that he was older? Surely, such an amount did not just vanish, surely)

But the man forgave. The man was kind, and in the instance of calm where their minds merged, the man confused Mukuro by being concerned about _him_ ; the very source of the man's pain. And he would speak kindly and do his best to share the strange warmth that had attracted Mukuro to him, this warmth being the reason for his reliance, he guessed (both saving and damning him all at once).

And in these moments of peace between agony, the man would talk to Mukuro and share stories and memories. He would do everything to comfort Mukuro, even when crying, even when screaming with pain, the man would put Mukuro's before his own.

And he would accept no apology; this, perhaps angered Mukuro the most, thinking back.

"It's fine, it's fine, yeah?" the man would gargle to Mukuro through broken Italian, choking on his own pain and agony, and yet putting forth an effort to convey this message of forgiveness.

Forgiveness. What a baffling concept to Mukuro, even now that he was grown. Perhaps this man, this stranger that made such a point to care for Mukuro (one of his tormentors, basically _one of them_ , and Mukuro could ever understand this man, but dammit, did he truly appreciate him, both as a child and now), could forgive,

but Mukuro was a far lesser man than him. He had accepted this long ago, but his tainted soul did not mean he could not be a savior.

(he had guilt to make up for, after all; and there was no better motivator than that, even when masked with the concept of revenge)

he only wished that he had recognized that woman on that fated day. After all, Mukuro had always felt the desire to know more about that man, without the use of memories raped from an unwilling conscious.

(Could he ever forgive himself? But ah, that wasn't the right question)

(he was a man of action, of illusions; and he had never foolish enough to have any pertaining to what he truly was)

(Mateus was the humanity to more than one person, it seemed)

* * *

"Tell me about the loud one."

And there was flicker of amusement in her eyes as she looked over at her student. They were positioned on the roof of the building opposing the rain battle, or at least, the building that held the rain battle in it. Janus's minions were kind enough to provide a large projection, easy to see from a vantage point, even as far away as the one they had established.

Mist rolled around them, only slightly obscuring. There was a familiar prickling at the back of her neck, and she had her assumptions; but she kept quiet, deciding it was not her place to stop others from watching the fight as she and her student were doing themselves. And if they preferred to remain unseen with the aid of illusions? She disagreed with their methods, but had no room to interfere.

"Superbi Squalo…" she started, looking down as the group, all but the two potential rains, exited the building,

(and red eyes noticed her, and bloodlust, excitement filled them, because goddammit if that shitty shark wasn't going give both him and her a good show, Xanxus would murder the scum himself)

"He's honorable. His loyalty, his pride, is his most dangerous quality."

"Loyalty?" Kyoya sniffed, looking down at her almost disdainfully from his perch, sitting on the water tank.

"Don't be quick to scoff, Kyoya," Ausiliatrice warned, eyes on the figures shown, alone, on the screen, "loyalty is dangerous. It's best to know that. And with these kinds of people," she said, looking back between Xanxus and Squalo once more, thinking, "it's even more so."

"You know him then?" Her student guessed easily. She barely smiled, easily.

"You could say that, I suppose," she admitted, then grew serious, "he's the most formidable, out of the Varia." Kyoya raised an eyebrow at this, slight surprise on his face at her statement.

"It's a combination; skill, drive, power," she explained her reasoning, "he's perhaps the most versatile, a tactician, but it not held back by his own bloodlust, like Belphegor, or…" she trailed off, her eyes lingering on Xanxus once more. "Pride," she moved on, hers eyes not leaving the man, "is perhaps one of the few things I can fault him with."

And Kyoya hummed in slight agreement, because pride? That was something he could understand.

"Yamamoto Takeshi…" he mused, looking at the young boy on the screen, sword bared and ready to face his death, "I wonder what you'll prove…"

Ausiliatrice remained silent, arms crossed and with a frown. Superbi Squalo, she knew, would not let the boy live. This was certain, if he were to win the battle. But if the boy won? She could only hope that he would consider her suggestion.

Certainly, the battle field was built in advantage to Squalo, who could easily use the water around him, and was far more experienced and adept in such various and obscure surroundings. Then again, all these battles, she had noticed, settings were built in advantage to the Varia. Which was a given acknowledgement, seeing how the entire battle and game itself was obviously tainted. But so was everything else in this world these children were being dragged into. Therefore, those who pitied and helped them had no footing to complain.

It was sad, she thought as the battle began, watching Yamamoto Takeshi barely fend off, let alone fight Squalo, that such raw talent should be slashed so quickly before it blooms.

"He could never win," Ausiliatrice commented sadly, seeing as Yamamoto stuck with a single style, "if he continues like this."

"Yamamoto Takeshi," Kyoya disagreed, "is an adapter. He shouldn't be brushed aside so easily." And this last note was said almost with threat, as promising a worse demise to Yamamoto if he dared lose. As if the boy losing would be a mark against Hibari Kyoya himself.

(It was wonderful, she thought, to see Kyoya acknowledge others, because once they had that acknowledgement? The prefect would severely punish them if they dared to fall short of his expectations after earning his finicky approval. Fascinating indeed)

She winced, however, seeing Yamamoto completely miss the one chance he had been graciously given to attack Squalo (a test, was it? Perhaps he had taken her words with more salt than she had thought), and Kyoya barely flinched as well, and scowled, picking up on this easily.

And soon enough, the first arc of blood burst beautiful from Yamamoto's shoulder.

"His will," Ausiliatrice noted with almost a nostalgic tone, commenting on the boy's insistence of his technique being undefeatable, "is admirable." But she frowned, immediately after.

"He's getting serious," Kyoya muttered, shifting slightly and almost leaning forward. She hummed in acknowledgment.

"Superbi Squalo…." And she stiffened, feeling a presence come into existence just beside her as an unfamiliar voice wafted through the mist, growing thicker as the presence came into contact with the physical world, "What a fearsome man, wouldn't you agree?"

And she turned her head, seeing a young man – no, a boy still – standing beside her.

"You're…" she said, taking in his hair, his features, his one red eye (and a memory, resurfaced, seeing this same face, but much, much younger), "the boy from long ago." And his expressions shifted, just slightly, allowing her keen eyes to pick up a slight air of surprise.

"I'm pleased you remembered…" he muttered, going back to watching the battle. She turned her head to her student, seeing that he remained unaware of the new arrival to their perch. So this, she connected, was the illusionist that was watching.

"Rokudo Mukuro," he introduced after a beat of silence.

"Ausiliatrice," she answered back easily, calm, but prepared, unsure of his intentions. Naturally, she had made the propter connections to the jail break and Tsunayoshi, but seeing how this was in the past, and she had been uninvolved, she would much rather focus on the now:

"You're Tsunayoshi's mist, I presume?" She asked, her eyes moving back to the battle as their conversation (could they call it that? What was this?) resumed. Mukuro gave a wry twinge of his lips in response.

"I suppose you could say that, yes," he admitted, but then allowed that small smile to fall, "but that's not why I approached you – "

"Obviously," she quipped, and he smiled dryly once more.

"Clearly, you're a woman who values efficiency," and the way he said this gave her a strange feeling, like he knew this without having the meet her, as if this was a fact he was already well aware of through strange means that he himself did not agree with, "and I came down to ask you simply… because I want to know."

And she allowed herself to shift slightly, and turn her head to face him; a sign she was willing to listen.

"That man…. the one you were looking for," he asked carefully, almost hesitantly (as if hiding feeling, as if hiding pain), "What was his name?" And she looked at him curiously, many question bubbling in her for him, and yet;

seeing the small flicker of resentment, seeing the way in which he repositioned his hand on his trident and the bare shift of his feet; she was polite enough to not push for this, as she knew this was a sensitive matter (for both of them, for both of them, although she did not know why), and although she very much wanted to ask, she didn't out of politeness, out of understanding, even if she didn't know the question, let alone the answer.

"Mateus," she said, repressing all of this in one slow blink. "His name was Mateus."

And the use of past tense, the way which she turned from him again, gave Mukuro all the answers he needed. And he frowned, and turned as well.

"Thank you, Ausiliatrice," he said, using her full name, as he knew he should, not daring to intrude on this respect, "I'll leave you to the battle for now."

 _For now_ :

a promise to return.

And she barely watched him disappear in a flurry of mist again, curiosity bubbling but being quelled by understanding; no matter this connection, she would not force him to speak of this apparent link they both shared. And Ausiliatrice watched the rest of the battle with almost mute interest,

surprised, of course, when Yamamoto Takeshi won, but not surprised, rather pleased, when Squalo pushed him away and refused help (pride, his downfall after all, being the most unsurprising fact of the night).

It seems that they would be pulling Squalo out of bloodied waters, instead.

And after that?

She had a few more calls to make; ones that she should have made long ago.

* * *

"Ausiliatrice," Dino called, coming to stand beside her waiting outside of the operating room, "You knew him well, right? Then why didn't you seem worried?" Her eyes moved away from the closed doors, scaling the blood spots leading to it, fresh from Squalo's wounds, and then met Dino's soft brown eyes, so full of wonder and concern.

"People like him," she said, "like us. We don't die easy. His instinct is to live," she answered simply, with a shrug, "I knew, even if he gave up? In the end, he would never go through with that decision. He'll fight, even against death."

"So you had faith, huh?" He said, running a hand through is hair and sighing, "That's admirable. Seeing how we found him and the circumstances…." he trailed off, nearly scowling, thinking back to the battle, to the kids (too young, too young), and to how Xanxus simple laughed and dismissed the one who had shown the most loyalty to him so quickly.

"Don't be so quick to lay judgement, Dino," Ausiliatrice berated, looking over at him, "I can see what you're thinking."

"He just laughed, Ausiliatrice," Dino said, sighing roughly and falling back to sit on one of the benches placed outside of the emergency room, "If one of my men died like that? If someone who gave their life for me died and I just…." he trailed off, scowling once more, "It's despicable, he doesn't even care about them, does he?"

"You can't compare every family to yours," Ausiliatrice said, causing him to look up at her in confusion, "And loyalty, or anything else for that matter," she corrected herself, "doesn't fall under the same definition for all. Squalo knew who he was pledging his life to. He knew what he was dying for."

Dino let out a long sigh, his body slumping with it.

"I sure hope so…. you think we can get any information out of him when he comes out?" He asked, looking up at her. Her expression deadpanned.

"Dino," she said flatly, "think back to the conversation we just had, and ask yourself that question again."

A moment. Then:

"So I'm guessing that's a no?"

"… don't ask idiotic questions."

* * *

"You know, this information would have been a lot easier to get if you hadn't burned the entire place down."

"Is that hostility I hear, Hermes?" She asked almost playfully, "how unlike you. Maybe I should have contacted Iris instead?"

"…. listen, punk, I'm faxing the information to the number you gave me now, just," he said with an almost pained sigh (she swore, she heard a mutter of 'I'm getting too old for this'), "give me a little appreciation here, okay?"

"I didn't think I had to vocalize it," she said, shrugging, despite the conversation being on the phone.

"And hey, Atalanta," she then stiffened at this, picking up on the sudden change in his voice, "I didn't…. I didn't know he died like that. Sorry," he said almost hesitantly, but still respectfully.

"It's fine," she said, truthfully, "Thank you for getting the information." And with that, she shut the phone, looking from her position, sitting with her legs crossed on the desk, to the corner of the hospital office, where pages were being neatly printed.

She rose and retrieved the papers, leafing through it, confirming what she already knew and gaining new information all at once:

Mateus had been their prime test subject for the possession bullet, due to his strong harmonizing factor. Given, his body didn't reject the young boy's forced presence as violently as the others, and therefore survived many more experiments. Not only was his mind strong and not as easily broken, but his body was at well, making him rather attractive for this kind of experiment (and at this, her hand clenched, marring the paper, and she moved on quickly to the next). Some small notes scrawled with messy handwriting confirmed another theory for her; that Mateus and Rokudo Mukuro had gained a connection through these forced connections.

But how far, she wondered, looking up from the papers and to the window of the hospital room, did this connection extend? With how Mukuro Rokudo approached her and expressed interest? Most likely, far beyond these tiny notes on paper, made by those who were less than the dirt that clung to her shoe.

Only Mukuro could tell her that she supposed (because the dead certainly couldn't), and she wasn't the type to force the words out of another's mouth. Especially about matters as delicate and close as this.

She could wait (as she always, always does), for Mukuro to reveal more on his own terms.

(she thought back to that day, seeing that child and comparing that image to the boy that talked to her just this night)

(and nothing, she realized, had changed)

* * *

He looked over, seeing an incredibly beautiful woman; warm, dark and rich skin, large lips, and those eyes, those beautiful, beautiful eyes, and then he looked and followed the curls and tresses of hair that billowed around her, and there was a need to reach out and touch it, asking first and then getting to hear her beautiful, low voice spill from gorgeous lips,

but this need wasn't his, nor were the dark hands, or rough but happy voice that gently asked for consent. This body that wasn't his leaned forward and dark, large fingers wrapped around textured curls, and the smile he felt on this face certainly did not belong to him,

and this feeling that seized this chest as the woman (Ausiliatrice, Ausiliatrice, and he had a name to attach to this body too now) looked up at her, her usual hardened eyes softening just for that moment, but this feeling wasn't his either, nothing of this belonged to him.

"I love you, you know that?" He heard this body say, and then patiently wait as the woman, _Ausiliatrice_ , opened her mouth to respond.

But her image flickered, and a new feeling entered him, seeing another familiar face. Dark skin flickered to pale, curls switched to short and straight hair, losing its volume but gaining sleek and a dark purple color instead,

and he found himself holding the face of dear Chrome.

"It's time, Mukuro-sama."

And he felt his body flicker as well, from his own to Mateus's (Mateus, Mateus, Mateus, he repeated this as a mantra, finally having a name to the small speck of warmth from his childhood). And instead, he pushed these complications, feelings and past aside, and smiled slyly down at his vessel.

"Let's go have a little fun, shall we?"

* * *

 _"I am a monster. What I do is evil. I have no illusions about it, but it must be done."_

 ** _-Joss Whedon (The Operative: Serenity)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Sorry again, for not finishing this arc yet, but my computer keeps shutting down on me, so I decided to do what I could to update this weekend. I swear to god, the next chapter after this will finish the Varia arc, and if it's doesn't, I will literally die (can you tell I've been watching Parks and Rec lmao)_

 _So, I honestly don't know the next time I'll be able to update, with my computer acting up. I'm going to work on trying to fix it after this. Lmao, kill me now_

 _ **anyway, is anyone interested in me posting my playlist for Ausil, or any of them for this story?** It gives me strength when writing this._

 _Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm literally updating from my phone, fml_

 **Review Response:**

 **Guest:** Hahah, glad you're excited! Unfortunately, with my computer being a lil bitch, I don't know when I'll be able to update again, but I'll try! Thanks thinking it's awesome and thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Aw, thanks for thinking it was a fantastic chapter! Hahah, sorry to have you wait a little linger for If He Had Lived, but hey, Mateus is mentioned in this chapter! And yes, it's heavily implied that Mateus was a sky. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest27:** Bruh, she would both mother and beat the shit out of Sasuke for being so stupid. And I a=could actually see her and Itachi hitting it off if she were in the Naruto universe? Hm. But yeah, I love writing her and Hibari's little interactions. And Bel is such a kid, lmao. But like, such a deadly kid. And although I like her being Kakashi's kid, I don't know man? Like I really want her to be from Kumo. Although the Root suggesting is awesome. Thanks for the review!

 **Blacksky:** In no way are you chill, bruh. And Lmao, hell yeah, that little scene was just a big middle finger, I'll admit. And I would actually put DinoxAusil as Zeus? Because Mateus isn't exactly involved anymore...And nah, you're not a bad person, a lot of people hate Iemitus, lmao. I don't mind him honestly, and see his reasonings, he just coudl have been more considerate to his family. But I get it though. It's just that his personality and his actions cause Ausil not to like him. And lmao, you'll get your wish of them talking soon. Get rekted. And wow, it's almost like the concept of waiting is a huge motif for this story. Huh. And I cannot wait for her to react to Levi's assumption, lmao. And i love writign her and Shamal, liek it's such a pure, fun friendship? And I guess you'll just have to wait to see what timeline I got with. Thanks for the review!

 **Aka:** Chrome is my babe, my little perfect and adorable bi babe that I cherish with all my heart and being. Holy shit man, kitty chrome. You can't just hit me with that out of nowhere, you feel? And honestly, although it hasn't been addressed yet, as long as Chrome consents to it, then Ausil honestly would not care? And thanks for the questions! I'll be sure to put them in the next interview! Thanks for the review!


	22. Lesson 22: To Apologize Part 4

**Lesson 22: Her Mother Taught Her to Apologize Part 4**

* * *

 _"You are shaking fists & trembling teeth. I know: You did not mean to be cruel. _

_That does not mean you were kind."_

 ** _-Venetta Octavia_**

* * *

"You know I didn't expect you to be the one to- Ow!" He hissed slightly, wincing and squinting as Ausiliatrice disinfected his wound and applied the bandage to his eye.

"You saw Romario's attempt with Gokudera Hayato," she said coolly (with a hint of humor, he picked up), gently moving his head and inspecting her work, "I'm used to things of this nature."

"Haha, I guess that's true!" Yamamoto Takeshi laughed, "So you patch a lot of people up, huh?"

"Myself," she corrected, "Many times as a child."

"All by yourself?" He asked, descending into curiosity. She shrugged, gathering her materials and rising to place them back into the drawers where they came.

"There was no one else." And at this, he hesitated, then smiled awkwardly, forcefully.

"That must have been hard, huh?"

"Stop lying to yourself, Yamamoto Takeshi," she said, accusing. His awkward smile faltered, and he stared up at her.

"What?"

"You're deeply affected by the outcome of the rain battle," she said, "Let yourself be. Don't repress it."

A silence grew and extended from the boy creeping with cold and cruel fingers, as he let his smile drop, along with his head. The older woman sighed and went to sit on the bed beside him.

"Do you know how many people I've killed?" She asked him quietly, and then when he said nothing, answered, "Many. Too fucking many. But it doesn't affect me. I've grown up this way and I've accepted it. I'm a killer, and I know this. But you?" She said, looking over at him with an aggressive and fierce gaze, "You're nothing like me. You're not a killer, Yamamoto Takeshi," (not yet, she thought, fighting a wince of sorts, not yet, not yet), "so stop feeding this lie to yourself."

She continued to look at him, as his head continued to hang. A breath, from the boy.

"Thanks… I," he hesitated, nearly wincing as he looked up, "I think I needed that."

And Ausiliatrice looked down at him, unreadable, and instead of answering, she rose to exit the room. She stopped, however, at the door, her hand hovering, lingering, and then gently placing itself against the side as she looked back.

"Rains," she told him gently, "are meant to wash away the worries of the family. But often, they forget they're included in that family," another harsh, hard look (a warning?), and then:

"Don't be a fool, Yamamoto Takeshi."

And she left him.

* * *

"I understand why we can't tell him," Ausiliatrice murmured, leaning on the wall as Dino walked out of Squalo's current holding, Romario trailing as always.

"But you disagree?" Dino finished with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," she said simply, and left her statement as that. Dino frowned, folding his arms behind his head.

"Yeah… I know." She narrowed her eyes almost dangerously.

"You don't," she corrected, but changed subjects before he could catch onto the statement, "You haven't asked me to get information from him. Why?"

"Ah, I didn't want to bother you w-"

"You know my credentials. You know I can do it," She cut him off, "and so I'll repeated: why haven't you asked me to interrogate Superbi Squalo?"

"Aren't you friends with him-"

"It's insulting that you think that would keep me from doing my job," she reflected. "Try again," she allowed. He opened his mouth, mind scrambling. Romario stood behind his boss faithfully, watching the interaction intently.

"You're my bodyguard, Ausiliatrice," Dino finally said, gaining more confidence with his answer as it was being said, "it's not in your paycheck to do this sort of thing.

A moment. And then a bare tug her lips.

"Good enough," she said before walking away, leaving a relieved but baffled Dino in her wake and mildly amused by attentive Romario.

(It was clear, she established, that Dino wasn't keen on harming Squalo either)

(Loyalty, was something they both held in high regards, after all)

* * *

"It's an illusionary battle," she said, and then barely smiled with humor, hearing a low grumble and imagining her student's expression of disgust, clearly picturing it even over the phone, "So, I figured you would appreciate this information and decide for yourself if you still wanted to come or not."

 _"… my battle is next then?"_

"Tomorrow night," she answered easily. A grunt; confirmation, and then he ended the call. Because:

There was no needed question or respond; there was no doubt of what he had learned and how he had grown between them. They were both well aware of his potential and acknowledged it as endless, as was hers when she was younger (but what does that make her now?). There was no need to express doubt if he was ready, for there was no doubt in either of them to begin with. He had been ready since before her training him, and now? Ausiliatrice was only disappointed that his opponent was a simple stack of metal, melded together only to be easily torn apart by the freshly sharpened fangs of her student. A pity, to dint them on something so meaningless.

She blinked, and coolly met the eyes trained on her.

"What?" She said equably, meeting the man's judging gaze as she snapped her phone shut," I might as well make a call; it's not like you're going to front a conversation with me, Superbi Squalo."

Said man grunted, and averted his eyes. Abyssal ones reviewed once more his bounds, the straps constricting him to his bed, and then to the freshly white bandages that littered his corpse. After all, he was nothing but a hollow man now, binding himself to silence, clinging to loyalty that has long since been thrown to the ground and dirtied. Or so, Ausiliatrice thought, would be the case looking with ignorant eyes.

It wasn't that Xanxus had failed Squalo when he had brushed off his death so easily; it was Squalo who had tainted their bond when he had lost. As was the nature of their relationship; brutal and bloody and quick to back hand. But a relationship that both consented to and understood. One that Ausiliatrice picked up on, even years ago when first reviewing the two boys. It was one of the few aspects of themselves that they chose to wear on their blood-stained sleeve.

There were many things, she realized, she respected about the man that was Superbi Squalo.

And she could only wonder if she would respect the man that he had given his life to the same.

* * *

It was a staring contest of sorts;

Red against black and clashing violently, brutally, _beautifully_. As was their nature. Xanxus leaned back in his seat, pompous and unneeded, and orchestrated a bare tug of his lips as he flexed his hand, stringing his fingers, making a point, a show of the ring on his hand.

Ausiliatrice resisted a scoff, and turned her eyes away. Instead, she focused on an entrance she deemed far more interesting.

Immediately upon meeting the doe shaped eye, she thought warmly of Vivian. This girl, a shy looking thing that somehow had the audacity to kiss Tsunayoshi so familiarly (something, much to Ausiliatrice's and other's amusement, that Gokudera Hayato disagreed with), looked and soft and timid and yet? There was a glow to her. Soft, yet distinct and there. Not yet vivid, but entirely present.

The girl seemed to notice Ausiliatrice, standing solitary to the side of the group,

And blushed deeply and immediately. Quickly, she looked away, her eye still wide and embarrassed, and gripping her weapon tightly.

Ausiliatrice didn't think much of the reaction, and continued to watch the battle unravel rigidly, arms crossed and simply observing. Relaxed, being the bystander and out of the way of conflict, for a change. Ignoring, blatantly, the strange look she was receiving from the Arcobaleno Collenello, and making the connection easy enough to his reason for doing so. It wasn't as if he was trying to hide the clear line of sight he was drawing between her and Reborn. She smothered this spike of annoyance, and pushed the question of just what he was trying to accomplish being clear about the blood between them now, if not later, if not years before.

But this was in the past, and the past was no longer her problem. She focused on the present, the now that was unfolding in front of her abyssal eyes, ignoring the abyssal eyes of her father next to her, lower than her, seeing from a different perspective.

She shifted, only slightly concerned when the girl (Chrome Dokuro, she remembered Janus's subordinates announce) collapsed, her midsection following in suit. And then, her interest peaked further when Mukuro Rokudo made his connection known and revealed himself.

The only other spike of irritation came from the slight headache, and she begrudgingly made a note to show her gratification to Hecate the next time they happened to cross paths. Perhaps, she thought, it would have been beneficial to bring Kyoya to this battle after all? Illusions would be a weak point if he continued this childish hatred of them, and he would need to surpass this eventually (and he would, she knew, but a violent push in the right direction certainly wouldn't bruise for too long).

But, she recalled, her eyes shifting from the quickly ending battle to her father, taking these illusions just as easily as her, beside her; from the warning from both him and Dino, it seemed like it would be more trouble than it was worth to bring him in the vicinity of his "rival" (what a childish word that was, but she supposed she could leave children to their games for now, while they still had their youth, their innocence, while children could still be labeled as such).

After all, if anything were to happen concerning Kyoya, Dino would complain to her again; and she did not have the constitution to deal with that. Or perhaps this formed out of laziness. Either way, Ausiliatrice didn't want it to be her problem, despite being one that technically should not fall under her jurisdiction. Kyoya was his own person, and it was insulting to consider her his babysitter.

The battle ended with a second flourish, but Ausiliatrice supposed that was simply a part of what made Mukuro Rokudo who he was. She gathered this simply from watching his battle. Ah, but that spoke so much louder and violently than mere words stringed in a conversation, didn't it?

She watched and waited, seeing if he would give her acknowledgement; and he did, if vaguely so.

"Ausiliatrice," he said, polite and charming, giving a small smirk and nod of his head as courtesy.

"Rokudo Mukuro," she answered back, giving him the same. They had received and given their due cues: end interaction.

So that's, she thought, how it was. She could, she admitted to herself, appreciate this. It was respectful, the way he had made a choice to treat her.

And instead of meeting her father's curious glance, an effect of the statement made between her and the convict, she chose instead to gently catch Chrome Dokuro before she hit the ground, a small bit of irritation forming when she realized that none of the men around her had thought to do the same.

She gently put a hand against the girl's forehead, then moved to check her midsection, keeping a clear ear to the conversation being thrown carelessly over her head; confirmation of her student being the next to battle, her father's accusation against Xanxus not submitting if losing, and the immediate tension following his over-confident statement of doing just that and more.

She felt the need to put the girl behind her and shift her hand to one of her weapons, the air changing instantly. But they were wrong, when they assumed it was Xanxus's confidence in Gola Mosca that gave him gusto to bet everything on the next battle. It was something far more sinister, more manipulative, more vile –

red met abyssal once again across the playing field, the board, because that's all this was to him, wasn't it? A game that would soon be toppled and burned leaving no traces of the true winner, only the man would procure the fire with his own hand

– He knew she knew, that she picked up on this easily.

And that only caused his feral grin to grow more so.

* * *

Chrome Dokuro was truly a cute, gentle girl. The reminders of Vivian were blatant, and almost brought a gentle smile to Ausiliatrice's lips. Physically, there were cues that connected them. Doe eyes, for one, despite Chrome only having that number. Soft, small and plump lips, and face shape they shared as well. Perhaps, it was also the manner in which they moved. Personality shared some traits as well, but just a few. Or perhaps, what Ausiliatrice was seeing was the former, far more shy Vivian that she first met on that day in the art gallery. The artist had gained so much confidence in the course of their relationship after all. Then that, Ausiliatrice pin pointed, was the origin of this warm feeling; seeing this soft potential in another shy girl, who could only grow into her own form of confidence.

Such a contrast to the personality of her counterpart, which had been displayed so vividly in the recent battle. His personality was shown clearly through his skill, after all. Illusions were a key indicator of personality, a trademark between illusionists. They fought to be unique, these quarrels being so petty and meaningless. Another reason why Ausiliatrice typically chose to avoid those types, but there were always outliers, as there were to everything.

Chrome blushed, whenever looking at Ausiliatrice, another shared habit of Vivian within the first few months. Ausiliatrice wondered why, but was polite enough not to ask. Although, her politeness only went so far.

"Your connection with Mukuro Rokudo. How is it made?" She asked plainly, then added, seeing a slight widen of the girl's eye, "If you don't mind answering."

The girl, who had just pushed herself up from the bed after shyly allowing Ausiliatrice to make sure the illusions lulling her body into a false sense of health, grew quiet, but gently so, in a way that her voice did not shatter the silence when she decided to answer softly.

"Mukuro-sama… he saved me when I needed him most," she muttered, folding her hands together, cheeks glowing, "and I've owed him my life ever since."

A moment. And then Ausiliatrice scrunched her nose, if just barely.

"That's not what I asked," she stated blandly. "Your connection. The link between you and him. How was it made?" And Chrome blinked, cheeks ripening as she caught her blunder.

"A-ah," she managed with a small choke (almost a squeak), "I-I actually don't know exactly… Mukuro-sama came to me in a dream, and saved me when I was about to die…. That's all I know," she said as if apologizing, and then vocalized this needless action, "I'm sorry for not knowing more, I-"

"It's fine," Ausiliatrice clarified, making a point to make her voice far more gentle when talking with the girl (reminding herself that not everyone was like her, like Kyoya, that she needed to adapt and keep this in mind as not to offend, accidentally), "Curiosity," she clarified, realizing that she needed to do so, "prompted me. And just that." A moment of silence, again soft and lenient.

"Do I need to show you out?" Ausiliatrice asked. Chrome stood and shook her head softly.

"Thank you, Miss Ausiliatrice," she said (and Ausiliatrice noted, that she had never introduced herself to this girl, and yet?), "I wouldn't want to bother you more than I have; I can find my way."

And Ausiliatrice let her leave without another question.

(One of the most important things learned from her relationship with Vivian? The awareness of other's thought patterns and lines of thinking, and how different they were from hers and the importance of recognizing that; a lesson she finds herself being reminded of constantly)

(a lesson she should adhere to more)

* * *

The cloud battle went as expected; her student performed gracefully and efficiently (the layout of the arena was rather ironic she would admit, seeing that she never used bullets in their training. Not like that would make a difference; these bullets were slow enough for Kyoya to dodge easily and nowhere near the efficacy of her own, clearing her already crystal conscious about this fact), and Ausiliatrice wasn't surprised in the least when he disposed of Gola Mosca and turned to Xanxus for entertainment.

She wasn't surprised when Xanxus rose from his throne to play, she was not she surprised at Kyoya's spark of irritation and inevitable display via fighting when he realized that Xanxus had much more of his attention directed at his _tutor_ instead of _him_ (not that he had a tutor, but if he did, the monkey king definitely should be focused on Kyoya rather than making eyes at her, looking at her like a _fucking piece of meat_ ). She even felt a surge of pride and humor when Kyoya managed to get Xanxus to raise an arm, her reaction not going unnoticed by Xanxus and reacting a scowl -

Gola Mosca going berserk? An outcome that she didn't out rule entirely, despite its lower probability. She acted accordingly, making sure to protect Chrome Dokuro, shooting the land mines and pulling her back, turning the girl and herself to where her back was against the blast before the boys that accompanied her could even register that Chrome was near danger. She was even prepared to retrieve her own guns to intercept a stray missile coming towards them, but with a flick of her eye to the horizon?

She realized she didn't have to.

Tsunayoshi Sawada arrived in a rather impressive burning glory. He dismantled Gola Mosca with ease, going with Ausiliatrice's assumption of him doing such. But right before the final blow, she noticed Xanxus again,

Sharing the same grin with her as he had the other night, as if sharing a secret that would soon be revealed; and it was, it was, coldly so.

The nearly dead body of the Vongola Ninth dropping from the remains of Gola Mosca?

That was something that Ausiliatrice would be arrogant to say that she could have guessed.

* * *

"Convicting and trying children of murdering? That's low."

"Don't simplify it like that," she accused him, "Tsunayoshi may have killed the Ninth Boss of the Vongola." Brown eyes snapped to abyssal ones, accusing as well.

"You're agreeing with that guy?" Dino stated, nearly mortified.

"I'm stating facts," she shot back, "The rest of world doesn't care about the details; what I just said, the solid _fact_ of Tsunayoshi striking down the Ninth? That's what their ears will pick up and nothing else. Xanxus is a smart man, a genius, even, and he is well aware of this." A spurt of anger, then it's quick and sudden death. A sigh, then a hand running through a messy, blond mop of hair.

"This whole thing really was a setup, huh?"

"That was obvious from the beginning," she reminded him.

"Yeah," he agreed, "but just knowing it and not knowing what the set up was for doesn't help any. Dammit," he said, falling roughly into the chair of his impromptu office, "If I had just pushed Squalo more then maybe he would have broke! If I had just…" he trailed off, looking up at Ausiliatrice, and then away. Scowling. Such a strange and unfamiliar expression to see on his face. It felt, she thought, wrong.

"You're well aware that he would never betray that man," She reminded him, but she only received a low grumble as a response. A frown, from her, and then the sudden statement:

"Why do you do that?" Brown eyes flickered back to her in question, forgoing anger and guilt momentarily.

"Do what?"

"Blame everything on yourself," she clarified simply. He opened his mouth, gaping, almost in shock. And then, closed it, lip pressed into a frown.

"Look, I really don't want to think about my own problems right now, okay?" He said, slumping a bit, still tired, so tired, and Ausiliatrice allowed him this.

"You have any idea why those judges are still making it into a game?" he asked, changing subject suddenly (and she allowed him that, not wanting to push her question if he didn't want to embrace it for now).

"With Janus? They could just want their sick game to continue," she answered truthfully. "Their definition of fun doesn't exactly compensate for the well-being and feeling of others. We're still forced to trust them to judge this fairly however. I don't think Xanxus knew they would suggest turning his crucification of Tsunayoshi into one final battle."

"What makes you say that?" Dino said, wincing at her wording, but not disagreeing with it.

"In his mind, he's already won," she said simply, "and he might as well be right. Unless Tsunayoshi had a way to nullify Xanxus's flame," she said, recalling Xanxus's impressive showcase of his flames the other night, the first time they had truly flourished and extended from the man's body the few times Ausiliatrice had been in his vicinity, "then it's a loss cause." Ausiliatrice expected silence, but instead, Dino laughed.

"Funny you should say that…" he said, hope flickering in his eyes once more, "because Tsuna's been working on something that does just that. Actually, did it the other night, according to Reborn."

At this, she raised an eyebrow.

"Will it be enough?" she asked seriously, dampening his small dimmer of hope with reality.

"Reborn has hope," he said. This caused Ausiliatrice to click her tongue lightly and cross her arms, looking away from Dino and to the window. A clear sky, just before a night filled with sporadic weather.

"Does he?"

(Although it was an experience, to say the least, to see her Father grow so angry)

(She wondered, in that moment, what his relationship was with the ninth, for him to have such a strong reaction to his possible death)

* * *

Reborn looked up, the end of his nose barely tingling, as if needing to be scratched. Instead of doing so, however, he gazed again at the body laying out in front of him; breathing, but barely.

A spurt of anger hit him once again, but that anger turned to remembrance. Smoldering.

"Thank you, old friend," Reborn mutter, taking off his hat and holding it to his small (cursed) chest as he spoke, "for all that you have done for me and my blood." A moment, and then a wry comment turned possible promise:

"Perhaps, after Tsuna has dealt with you son, you can finally meet my daughter properly."

* * *

She had many scars herself. Anyone in their line of work would. It's an inevitable mark, repeated multiple times. Although hers, she liked to view as progress, as sign of acceptance and growth. But none of hers held as much pain as his, clearly. Xanxus's scars spoke of hatred and resent, and _denial_.

She stood behind Squalo, gun not even drawn (because they both knew she could shoot him easily and quickly, without the need of cold metal pressed to his head to make this promise reality), and watched. Silent, almost as if in mourning. Her eyes flickered to different screens; showing her own student followed at a careful distance by Chrome, clutching her trident, not knowing what else to do but follow the other guardian who had, begrudgingly, saved her after Yamamoto. The rain guardian himself was with Gokudera, being tricked in giving up their rings by Belphegor and Mammon, who was using illusions to achieve this. Kyoya, no doubt, was on the hunt, and she easily guessed that it was for Belphegor; she could see some injuries on her student that looked to be from knives or wires, and she could picture a brief fight and then retreat from the prince upon realizing that Kyoya had long figured out his little party trick.

But her focus, primarily, was on Xanxus. On Squalo's words, painting a vivid and violent picture of why he followed Xanxus. And seeing him like this, seeing this beautiful display fury? She understood why people would follow this man. He was an outcast like her, and naturally? Others of their kind flocked to him. To his power, his strength, his anger, his _fury_.

And with the story that followed, coming painfully form Squalo' mouth, this was only confirmed.

Thought to be a bastard child, but not even given that? To grow up in poverty, on the streets, defending himself as she had as a child, supporting a mother that was slowly draining away herself, most likely barely able to take care of herself, let alone a child (and she could relate, she could relate), and then to be thrown into the lap of luxury suddenly – that was an adjustment in itself wasn't it? This was why he acted so vulgar, so brutal, because he was never used to this detailed life of comfort, and it never truly accepted him, did it? And when he finally had obtained a spot where he could rest in this once cruel, new sun that he had only gotten used to?

He was frozen. An outcast once more, subdued by the flames of the man he thought was a father, he was promised to share blood with, and didn't even receive that. She knew what it felt like to be a bastard child, and for him to think that he wasn't even that?

She wondered, hand going to rest on her left halter, if Tsunayoshi realized the cruelty of his actions. To place Xanxus in the same frozen Hell his adoptive father had years ago. To have him relive that traumatic experience again?

(And she knew, she knew, she knew what that felt like too)

She knew he did not mean to be this cruel,

But that does not make the action any less forgiving.

To be rejected by his father (did he still fall under that definition? Blood means so much to this world they live in, but what does it mean to them as individuals? This society holds the blood of royals so highly when it does not even bleed blue), and then rejected by the Vongola Ring?

It was the last spit in his face that Xanxus needed. The last confirmation in his mind that his blood was truly worth nothing.

Ausiliatrice witnessed his fall, and understood it completely; for this was a reflection of herself, as she had been years ago.

A decision was made in her mind, as that moment, seeing him break, and yell, witnessing anger and blood tumble from his mouth all at once, the cheers of children falling mute to her ears as she focused on the tragedy they consciously ignored;

She wanted to help him retrieve his wings,

Or at least, rise again from the ocean floor.

* * *

 _"Icarus. The original myth had two parts. Daedalus said to his son, 'I fashioned these wings for you. Two rules. Don't fly too high, or the sun will melt the wax. But, more important, son, don't fly too low. Because if you fly too low, the water and the waves will surely weigh down the wings, and you will die.' We've left out the second part of the myth. We don't say to people 'Don't fly too low.' All we do from the time they are 4 years old is warn them of hubris. We have created this industrially led structure that says: How dare you."_

 _\- Seth Godin_

* * *

"You're leaving?" She paused, and turned, looking down to meet her father in the eyes. "You're not coming to the party then," he assumed, a dry attempt at humor.

"I'm taking a leave of absence," she said, repeating what she had told Dino earlier. And she had planned to walk away just as she had walked away from Dino's questions and confusion. But ah, Reborn tended to muddle things like this, didn't he?

"Don't feel empathy for him, Ausiliatrice," Reborn told her before she could turn again. And she turned cold, accusing eyes onto him.

"Are you telling me what to do?" She dared, conveying more in her look than with words: explicitly stating that he had no right to do so.

"What Xanxus did and what happened to him was deserved," Reborn said, continuing, "The Ninth made a hard decision and had to make up for i-"

"A hard decision?" she said, finishing with a scoff, "Was it really? A lie of blood that was unneeded. In my opinion, it was more effort for him to keep up with his act than to just take a poor child in and care for him like his own; connected by blood or not."

"Don't," he said carefully, "talk about this as if you know the whole situation. You don't."

"Shouldn't we?" she asked, holding her head up. And he didn't need to ask for clarification.

"Whatever you're planning, don't get involved with Xanxus."

"Funny," she said dryly, "it's as if you assume you have authority over me. You can't," she told him coldly, this situation, this conversation a metaphor, a vehicle for pent feelings, for the real situation they were in (because both were too pridefully to start with their own raw issue), "pull authority or loyalty from blood."

A moment. Abyssal bracing against abyssal, the street they were standing in tense, air thick, the sun waiting in anticipation on the horizon.

"You don't know anything about loyalty, do you?" Reborn muttered, tilting his fedora downwards and obscuring his features in shadows. And in response Ausiliatrice seethed; her eyes narrowed dangerously and her fist clenched, her teeth doing the same, her mouth forming a hard line.

"Don't you lecture me on loyalty," she seethed, "don't you _dare_ fucking try. I am fully aware of loyalty, _Reborn_ ," she said, lacing his name with venom, "and I know for a fact that it's not simply given with a lie of blood. Nor is it given just because of blood. It's earned, through spilling it."

Through trust. Through laughs and questions of consent whispered softly with brown eyes. With light bell-laughter, and the acceptance of an artist who understands the beauty of letting go and understanding. Through old lovers who disgraced themselves, shattering that loyalty via obsession and long lost lust. Through lessons given with a rough hand and a temperamental voice, but given with good thought and intention (with love, with love, with love). Through tears and through death, and it's proven through what remains even after that.

But this didn't fit into her angry monologue.

"I knew…" Reborn said, not looking up, "I knew of your existence. Since the beginning."

"How validating," She said, her radiance having evaporated from searing skin and dispersing into the sunset that back dropped them. She turned from him and crossed her arms (almost, as if she were hugging herself). She had guessed this fact, easily.

"I never approached you," He explained further, not looking up at her until the second half of this sentence, "because I was honoring Esmeralda's wishes."

Ausiliatrice turned her head slightly, barely sustaining eye contact.

"She made it clear," He said, frowning slightly, "and if I misinterpreted that?"

"It's in the past," Ausiliatrice answered his question, her eyes storming, but calmly so. Because he understood. He understood completely and totally, just as Ausiliatrice understood her mother. Which between the two of them, was barely to not at all.

"Did you ever love my mother?" She asked him again for a second time.

"I don't know," he asked, just as (for they had so little time, before she ran, as Esmeralda always did).

"…. I don't think she loved you," Ausiliatrice confessed. But then again, she could never know the thoughts and feelings of the dead, and they surely weren't around to speak for themselves (because Ausiliatrice's definition of love and Esmeralda's definition of love differed vastly). "But," Ausiliatrice added, "She did love me enough to lead me to you."

"Do you really think she intended that?"

"Fully," She said, turning her head back to the sunset, "You misinterpreted after all."

And her father once again dipped his fedora, obscuring his face in shadows once more. Leon shifted on his shoulder, looking between the two of the same blood.

"You're still going through with it?"

"I didn't think you were the type ask needless questions," She said, pausing in her steps, halting her departure. "With or without permission," she continued, both in words and footsteps, "I do what I want."

"And that is?"

"Helping the outcasts," she said smoothly, "helping my people."

"Ausiliatrice," he called again, causing a cease fire in her steps. A moment, almost hesitation (but he was Reborn, the greatest hitman in the world; he didn't feel things such as _hesitation_ , such as _guilt_ , and yet, and yet, _and yet_ ):

"I'm sorry."

And even without her turning around, he noticed her hair slightly bob, signaling a slight nod of her head.

"Father," she addressed with this movement, conveying a farewell in the same.

And she left him standing on the street, alone with only the setting sunset as company.

(the meeting of the clouds and the sun; what a beautiful, awing child they made)

* * *

 _"There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay My vengeance upon you.' Now... I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, that meant your ass. You'd be dead right now. I never gave much thought to what it meant. I just thought it was a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. See, now I'm thinking: maybe it means you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here... he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. And I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd."_

 ** _-Pulp Fiction (1994)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _That Pulp Fiction quote just summarizes Ausil so well, man._

 _Aaand the Varia Arc is done! Whooh. That took longer than I wanted. Shout out to school and responsibilities for that. So like, part of this was written while I was drunk, and a very small part while I was hung over? So yeah. Also, some of my favorite quotes! I just love Pulp Fiction a lot, okay? Also, also, I finished this by staying up all night, so I apologize for any errors._

 _Okay, so next is either "If He Had Lived Part 1" or Reborn's chapter, and then back to "canon" chapters. Yay!_

 _Well, I am so glad that this arc is finished, and let me know what you guys think!_

 **Review Response:**

 **Random Reader:** Merry Early Christmas! Thanks for the review!

 **ren7720:** Lmao, it's so true, Ausiliatrice and Reborn have a very similar way of saying things. And yet, neither of them have realized this fact yet, nor has Dino made the connection between father and daughter. Lmao. Thanks for the review!

 **kaly07:** Lmao, I love putting twists and cliffhangers in. I should not have this power. Thanks for the love and the review!

 **Guest:** Lmao. Suffer. Thanks for the review! :D

 _-Evenly_


	23. Lesson 23: To Love Part 3

**Lesson 23: Her Mother Taught Her To Love Part 3**

 **All Quotes/Poems used in this chapter are by Charles Bukowski with the following format**

 _poem_

 _ **-title** (if using entire poem) _

* * *

_"I listen to the pulse of the sun,_

 _the tiger is the same to all of us_

 _and high oh_

 _so high on the branch_

 _our oriole"_

 ** _-Mongolian coasts shining in light_**

* * *

Emerald met abyssal. A sultry turn of plump, thick lips, upwards. Long lashes fanning and motioning him hither. A slight shift of her body, leaning casually against the bar, arching back slightly, accenting breast, baring curves, an acceptance of his eyes roaming, an allowance of it. All moves in a game.

But oh, did he love to play.

Reborn didn't often engage in long term relationships, no; those took time and effort. The right kind of person willing to play further, to both pursue and be pursued. But flirting? A fun past time. His intentions were clear when he allowed himself this small fun.

But this woman? _Esmeralda_ (he would later repeat this name, lips against dark skin, his air, hot and repetitive, repeating, _Esmeralda, Esmeralda, Esmeralda_ ).

She was playing to win.

And Reborn was humored enough to want to see how far she could get.

(But when did humor turn into more than that?)

(when he woke up to an empty bed)

(and the chase began)

* * *

 _"the snake had crawled the hole,_

 _and she said,_

 _tell me about yourself."_

* * *

A pale arm slid around her dark waist, pulling her gently back to sit on the bed.

"You always do this," his voice drawled, but there was fun to it, humor, for this was part of their little game wasn't it? "You never stay for me to make you breakfast."

"Like you would make breakfast," she scoffed, allowing him to pull her back further as he rose himself, leaning forward and putting his lips to her shoulder, trailing kisses up it.

"You wouldn't know," he accused her, speaking to her scarred skin, "I make a great espresso. I'll make you a cornetto too. Whatever you want. I'm also the world's greatest cook, you know."

"So many titles," she said, turning her head as his lips reached it, anticipating the kiss they shared in that moment, "and yet such a _humble_ man," she said, her lips nearly moving against his as they broke apart, if just so (still so close, still so close).

"I'm the world's greatest at many things," he said, smirking slightly, fingers lightly massaging her skin and wandering, wandering. A normal morning, exchanges like this, conversations like this (and yet, and yet, he knew then didn't he?)

"I know," she said, tightening and breathing him in, as if almost regretting, perhaps on the verge. Through heavy lashes, he noticed her eyes, so clear and green, now almost clouded. Distilled. Distance, when usually they were so vibrant and clear and violent. What changed, about this morning, he would wonder, for years, and years and years. But with Esmeralda?

"You know what I am," she spoke to him almost solemnly.

She was a cloud. Fluid and floating, and unbound. She was a runner, but ah, but ah, he was a chaser. A sun. True and bright and breaking. Their correlation, beautiful sunspots, filtering through a balcony thought to be impenetrable. Their combination, a sunset in which the sun embraced the clouds; but when did that embrace turn to a hold, turn to suffocation? And whose fault is the result of the clouds drifting away from the sun that once held it with such passion, such gentleness (such love?).

But was it not the Cloud's nature to disperse? And was it not the sun's nature to eventually burn?

(many misunderstand the term star-crossed lovers, many misinterpret Romeo and Juliet. It's not the teen's stupidity or hastened love that dooms them, but the hate of their family and thus the circumstances that causes their death, their demise. Circumstance, fate; it kills so much without forgiveness, and yet people are wary to surrender who they are set in stone to be)

"I'll be back," she murmured into his neck, and suddenly, her warmth left him.

"Always," he said with a sideways smirk.

(but even then, he realized it was a joke)

(it was a lie)

* * *

 _"I awakened to dryness and the ferns were dead,_

 _the potted plants yellow as corn;_

 _my woman was gone"_

 _"Good night,_

 _sweet little_

 _motherfucker."_

* * *

When he saw her last, and when he saw her again, he was sitting on an open windowsill, over looking the busy street as he discussed payment. His amused smirk and soft tapping of his gun against his raised knee stopped suddenly.

And he saw her in that single moment; the world stopped for it was not wide enough for the array of thoughts entering his head, making their entrances and exits all at once and traversing the vast stage that was his mind. Freeze frame. And he went through the script his mind was writing rapidly through detail all in one moment:

First, he took in her appearance, as vibrant and radiant as he remembered her from just a few months ago. He hair coiled and curled around her head, free and falling and not in dread locks as she sometimes wore them in. Her eyes, violent and vibrant as usual, and her lips moving fast and vapidly, spitting angry words as she discussed words that Reborn truly did not care about as his eyes transversed the rest of her body carefully, and then he noticed,

The swell of her stomach. Perhaps, a bump and overlooked by many, but he was not _many_ , he was not _some_ , he was the _world's greatest_ hitman and goddammit is they didn't know every curve of the other's body, and in that moment pieces fell together.

But perhaps, not all of them fit perfectly at first.

He felt subsequent, natural anger for a single moment, sadness that she had left him because of this, but then, his mind raced further and more efficiently, recalling figures and facts. Her family, he recalled, something he had researched and looked up on his own without the aid of her own words. Structure, institution, tradition, all things Esmeralda violently disassociated from herself. Her obvious refusal to return to them, and their obvious refusal to let her go completely. She cut ties, but what could make them sever her as well, to completely disown her.

His next thought was betrayal. Bruised, knowing that she had used him for this, and then dryly thinking congratulations to her, seeing how much time she had invested into this. Another thought, contrasting this:

Why would she put so much commitment into this, when there were so much easier methods available? The answer came simply to him; Esmeralda had standards, and he seemed to meet them. A swell of pride, and perhaps conceitedness at this.

And then confusion and anger again; her family would come for their blood, to spill the bastard child's and its mother's (because after this, with that kind of family, Esmeralda was no longer one of their own). Would she not be safer by his side? Would she not want them to raise this child together? Did she think he wasn't fit to raise a child, to protect it, to protect her?

And then realization, solemn and sudden.

She simply didn't want him there. That was all there was to it.

Esmeralda had always been a simple woman with simple wants. And seeing her from above, alone and pregnant with their child she very well could had raised with him? It was all so clear to him what she wanted, the future she had set for herself. And Reborn wasn't a part of it. She didn't want him to be.

And he scoffed at his own idea then and there, dismissing his anger entirely; who would want a child near the strongest hitman in the world? Surely, if this child even resembled him and was seen at his side, it would be death for them.

Perhaps this was her reasoning, perhaps not. Either way, Esmeralda, her solitude, the fact that she even left him and never came back, sent a clear message.

(And if he misinterpreted?)

These thoughts processed, distilled and ended all in one moment, and the world around him let out the breath he had been forcing it to hold. And the play that was the world went on. Abyssal, all seeing eyes turned from his old lover (the one who ran away, and he let her, he let her, for what cloud can love someone who wants to hold them back?) back to the discussion and other mean in the room, laying out a challenge for all who dared to make contact and flinch.

"That sounds rather low," he commented on the price thrown out to him, and smirked, using his gun to tilt his fedora over, "you trying to fuck over the greatest hitman in the world?"

(After all, only one person had accomplished such a feat)

(and the greatest hitman in the world let her do just that)

* * *

 _"If I never see you again_

 _I will always carry you_

 _inside_

 _outside_

 _on my fingertips_

 _and at brain edges_

 _and in centers_

 _centers_

 _of what I am of_

 _what remains."_

* * *

He entered his current residence, calmly and confident, even smiling idly as he scratched his beloved pet's chin when passed the plant Leon preferred to perch in. He moved swiftly, silent in his footsteps across the rooms until stalling in front of a desk. Pictures and wires linking them scattered across the wall, and he listlessly marked another target. Dead. Ready to turn, but stalling, void-filled eyes fell to a corner of his extensive array. Picture of a woman, and more of the same.

Sightings of Esmeralda he had gathered, noting as her once small stomach bulked and rounded and grew.

What would she name them? He wondered briefly, but dismissed these thoughts entirely in the same streak, the only one being missed the realization that she would be giving birth very soon. But that too, was killed by a much more pressing matter.

He turned suddenly, gun aimed at the intruder.

"Who's there?"

And the men with a checkered masked stepped from the shadows.

* * *

 _"she died of alcoholism_

 _wrapped in a blanket_

 _on a deck chair_

 _on an ocean_

 _steamer._

 _all her books of_

 _terrified loneliness_

 _all her books about_

 _the cruelty_

 _of loveless love_

 _were all that was left_

 _of her_

 _as the strolling vacationer_

 _discovered her body_

 _notified the captain_

 _and she was quickly dispatched_

 _to somewhere else_

 _on the ship_

 _as everything_

 _continued just_

 _as_

 _she had written it."_

 ** _-Carson McCullers_**

* * *

"Esmeralda's dead."

"… and your daughter?" At this, Reborn's tiny fist tightened. And released.

"Off the grid."

"Perhaps now would be the time to go to her then? I know you believe otherwise, but I think Esmeralda would have wanted this. Now, she is without mother, without family of any kind, and perhaps, fate will push you to step in to your daughter's life."

"She's hidden right now. I would only be dragging her back into danger again."

"You don't know that for certain, Reborn-"

Reborn turned his small form sharply to glare at the equally small form who dared the berate him for his actions (for a matter that he foolishly shared with one who perhaps could understand, who had a similar situation, but it wasn't the same was it? Everyone's problem was unique, and keenly so, and what a headache that was, trying to relate and yearning to be related to).

"Don't preach to me," Reborn nearly snapped, "when you do the exact same."

And for once, Fon's usual calm fell. A frown graced his features.

"You haven't tried," he said seriously, accusing, "and besides," he said, reverting to his usual calm, "I still see Meilin occasionally. When I _know_ ," he said with steel confirmation, "that it is safe."

"But besides that, no contact?" Reborn reestablished, "No trails leading from her to you, no connection known? At least, that's what safe, isn't it? And yet you still put your daughter in danger-"

"You don't have to detail the consequence, Reborn," Fon chided, but there was danger to his usual soft smile (and this, this intense humid wind that struck Reborn so suddenly, and reminded him so vividly that Fon was a storm, and a true, potent and striking one at that), "I know the consequence. I've lived the consequence, and it's a miracle that Meilin lived through it as well. Which is why I refuse, to cast my daughter from my life." Fon took and breath, his linked arms rising slightly with his chest, and then falling as he calmed himself.

"Esmeralda may have died of her own consequence, but you can prevent your daughter dying from yours," and he turned to leave, but then turned his head again to add, "Or better yet; you can prevent her from dying of her own. We're the most powerful for a reason, and although that comes as a curse," and here Reborn nearly winced at his phrasing, "we have the opportunity to use it to protect as well."

"It's either keep them close and costing them freedom," Reborn said, knowing well that if their daughter was anything like Esmeralda, this was a shattered hope, "or cut relations completely. Those are truly the only two options, without any doubt for their safety?"

"You are the world's greatest hitman, Reborn," Fon reminded him softly, "if any of us can find an alternative, it's you."

And Reborn's pride couldn't help but rise to the challenge.

* * *

 _"_ _the swans drown in bile water,_

 _take down the signs,_

 _test the poisons,_

 _barricade the cow_

 _from the bull,_

 _the peony from the sun,_

 _take lavender kisses from my night,_

 _put the symphonies out on the streets_

 _like beggars,_

 _get the nails ready,_

 _flog the backs of the saints,_

 _stun frogs and mice for the cat,_

 _burn the enthralling paintings,_

 _piss on the dawn,_

 _my love_

 _is dead."_

 _- **notice**_

* * *

"You realize her promise, don't you, old friend? She truly does have potential as you did in the past, and the Vongola would only nurture that," the Ninth pointed out, relaying words that Reborn had already guessed he would say.

"If she wanted to join a family, she would have done so by now," Reborn stated, (she's her mother's daughter, after all, after all), "and clearly does not want to, with her refusals already piling up, along with the bodies of those who tried to force her."

"I'm sure if we approached her-"

"I would advise," Reborn cut, and then caught himself, changing his tone to avoid offense, "not adding any of your own to that pile. She wouldn't take well to force, and there's a simply solution: don't force her."

"You realize that I simply can't let potential like that slip by," the ninth said seriously, propping his arms and leaning forward, adding edge to his voice as he looked down, the Arcobaleno sitting comfortable in a chair in front of the desk, "she could even make a possible guardian for one of my sons. She's around the same age-"

"I'll ask as a favor then."

And at this, the Ninth silenced.

"A favor?" he questioned warily, "you want to use one now, for this?" Abyssal eyes stared straight forward, unflinching and undaunting as always.

"Simply don't bother her. Advise others not to as well. Leave her alone," he said, and then added out of politeness, "as a favor to me."

"You realized that I won't be able to complete this to the extent you want," the Ninth wearied, "Tyr has already expressed interest in the girl, and I suspect he's already made the connection, being familiar with you."

"Try," Reborn said simply, "your best. I'm not asking for absolution. I'm asking you to look out for my daughter."

And at this, the ninth sighed, slumping forward slightly.

"Just as you have looked after my sons… I will," The ninth said, nodding a bit and looking into abyssal eyes once more in confirmation, "try my best, as a favor to such an old and loyal friend."

And with this, Reborn felt a sigh wash through him, almost relief, but reluctance to it.

"Thank you, old friend."

* * *

 _"There are worse things than_

 _being alone but it often takes decades_

 _to realize this_

 _and most often_

 _when you do_

 _it's too late_

 _and there's nothing worse_

 _than_

 _too late."_

 _ **-oh yes**_

* * *

"She's looking for you, you know."

And Reborn looked up to see Shamal leaning in the doorway.

"I know." And the doctor scoffed in response, moving from the doorway to sit across from the Arcobaleno at the kitchen table.

"Of course you do. Kept tabs on Esme too, right?" And he didn't have to respond to confirm. "You ever think of making her search of bit easier," Shamal asked, almost curiously, almost jaunting.

"I'm not going to force myself into her life." But Shamal scoffed and translated it easily enough ( _I don't want to ashamed, to be turned away by my own daughter who may not really want me_ ).

"Damn, your pride truly is something, isn't it? No wonder she's so fucking stubborn, gets it from both of you."

"I wasn't aware that you were so familiar with my daughter, Shamal," Reborn stated dangerously (and briefly, internally, Shamal panicked but recovered just as quick)

"We've crossed paths a few times," Shamal mostly lied, and yet there was enough truth to his words, and enough motivation for Reborn to leave this topic behind for the hitman not to pursue it.

"You know how me and Esmeralda met?" And he continued without an answer, "I was the doctor for her family a few times. Tried to give her an exam, being the sexy little thing she was back then, and damn, she did not age much, did she? But, naturally, when I tried to even touch her, she tried to put me in my grave. A few more tries and it was pretty obvious that if I got anywhere with her, it would be the morgue. Soon just started talking. Real spit fire, right?" And Reborn knew, he knew, he knew, "and she started to vent. Real bastards, those guys."

And Reborn knew he was referring to Esmeralda's family, or rather those who used to hold that title for her.

"But Esmeralda, she doesn't really stop, does she? Her family tried to push her down and make her into a soft little thing, and Esmeralda becomes the most brutal and bloody out of all of them. She had a way of running away, didn't she? Of making it seem like some vast and vigilant gesture, almost inspiring, and when you look back on it? Running away is just that: running away. But she made it seem like there was more to it."

And Reborn was forced to agree.

(and he saw Esmeralda that morning again, leaving him)

(and he imagined his daughter walking back into his life of her own will, wanting to find him)

(Pride was a silly thing, so stop someone with such strong of a will. And yet, was it not the reason for their strong will in the first place?)

* * *

 _"she found me_

 _glittering over a yellow feather_

 _seeking out the music_

 _which she,_

 _oddly,_

 _failed to_

 _hear."_

* * *

He had built himself up for the meeting; for seeing his daughter for the first time. But never could he expect just exactly how much seeing her for the first time would affect him, would hit him so hardly. It wasn't just seeing her, though, no. For he saw so much more than the woman standing behind his former student.

He saw himself in her. Not as he was now, in his curse form. No.

He saw who he used to be; who he truly was. This resemblance's core was in her eyes he later realized, but it spread like a universe, like a galaxy; constellations of his past. The way she stood, where she put her weight in her feet, the angle at which she leaned back. And the expression. The slight narrowing of her eyes. Those abyssal eyes. Perhaps his last true reminder, and the last reflection of what he used to be.

But he didn't only see himself in her no. Esmeralda. Esmeralda, Esmeralda, Esmeralda; there was so much of her there too. Certainly, most of her physical aspects came from that woman (that woman, that woman). Her hair, she had Esmeralda's wild head of hair, or perhaps a fraction more tamed, but still holding animosity. And due to Esmeralda's dark skin, the girl had a mix of both of theirs but airing to the darkened side, a beautiful shade, only a few hues off from her mother's. She had her lips, and for a moment, Reborn half expected Esmeralda's usual spitfire to shoot out of them (after all these years, after all these years, her voice still rang in his ears), but no.

This girl was far more reserved than her mother. And yet, that fire was still there, just lodged and hidden – no, no, he corrected, she wore it proudly. There was a tension, she carried with her into rooms, into spaces, and Reborn almost felt something swell in him akin to pride what traits did she receive from him, what did he gift this child that she could flaunt besides those eyes; mirrors of his past self that hurt to the core to see into.

A sudden and daunting feeling if wanting to know his own daughter, something he had been repressing for years (he could count if he wanted, but didn't want to define it with numbers, making it far more real).

This girl, no, woman. Clearly, she was a woman, he realized, stomach taking a sharp turn, teeth brittle, and copper becoming electric in his mouth. This was grown woman, who either knew of their connection and would remain content in this silence between them, or a woman who sought her own father out of curiosity (need?), and now that they were face to face, her looking down at him?

He didn't want her to see him like this.

(Shame so often hid in the shadow of pride, after all)

(he just didn't expect his daughter's shadow to encompass him the same way)

* * *

 _"I've had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can't quite make out what it is. It takes time."_

* * *

Pride, was a curse he passed on to her, he realized as he watched her run away once again.

But that? The tendency to slip from his grasp again and again and again, while his pride turned his head, masking his multiple chances?

That was from Esmeralda; that was what her mother taught her.

* * *

 _225 days under grass_

 _and you know more than I._

 _they have long taken your blood,_

 _you are a dry stick in a basket._

 _is this how it works?_

 _in this room_

 _the hours of love_

 _still make shadows._

 _when you left_

 _you took almost_

 _everything._

 _I kneel in the nights_

 _before tigers_

 _that will not let me be._

 _what you were_

 _will not happen again._

 _the tigers have found me_

 _and I do not care."_

 _ **-for Jane**_

* * *

 _AN:_

 ** _Hey guys! So I started up a community of my own, and I'm trying to gather stories that have positive portrayals of LBGTQIA+ characters, or any character that has representation really (it can be anything like mental disability, physical disability, ethnicity, anything that sorely needs more representation), and so feel free to message me with stories (of any fandom really) that has a positive representation. And when I say positive representation, I mean that it's actual representation instead of a stereotype of even a fetish of sorts, as many of the stories on here are results of. I want this to be pure and true representation, and I wanted a place to share and gather these stories fro other people looking for representation in fanfiction._**

 _Aye, I can finally talk openly about this: so I feel so connected with Reborn, because I feel like I close myself off to so many things, especially relationships, because of pride. For example, I will never assume that someone is pursuing me, in fear that if I assume and reciprocate feelings, they actually never were interested me in the first place, and I just assumed and misinterpreted. I don't like feeling like a fool, and so instead to avoid this, I just shut down entirely. And Esmeralda is doomed to pride as well, and Ausiliatrice's life is just a consequence of both her parent's pride. But anyways, I had fun putting the Bukowski poems in, so many fit and it was so hard to choose._

 _"If He Had Lived" Part 1 is next. Get HYPE (and get ready to cry/die, Lmao)_

 **Review Response:**

 **ren7720:** Lmao, she would be such a violent therapist with him, but in a way, yeah you're right. That's basically what's going to happen. Thanks for the review!

 **Random Reader:** Aw, thanks for thinking that the chapter was awesome! Here's the next one! Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Look, I have no illusions about the type of person I am. Mean, indeed motherfucker. Lmao, I can't wait to get to the next canon chapter, whcih has so much Xanxus in it. And it's gonna be lit next chapter. Thanks for the review!

 **Mara 78:** Haha, glad that you enjoy that pairing! Thanks for the review!

-Evenly


	24. Lesson 24: If He Had lived Part 1

**Lesson 24: If He Had lived Part 1**

 **Note:** This entire chapter is a special chapter, an AU showing little bits of what would happen if Mateus had lived. Being an AU, none of the following is "canon" for this story. This a treat for all of you guys, who I love dearly for all the love and support. We're almost to 500 reviews, which is amazing. Seriously, thank you guys so much and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

All the Quotes use in this chapter are from _Welcome to Night Vale_ , Episode 92: "If He Had Lived"

* * *

 _"If he hadn't died, if he had lived, lived on and led on, if he had continued and continued and continued and nothing changed, if no one else ever got a chance, if the country never moved on, if he had lived, maybe, this is what would have happened."_

* * *

The distinct smell of copper played coy with their nostrils, and for Ausiliatrice, it was a familiar flirtation. But for the child? She could only hope that he was not used to this. The two faced each other in opposition of the blood splattered, body littered hallways of the Estraneo facility.

In another world, they would have gone separate ways, and would have left it at that.

In another world, the man that unknowingly connected them would have died.

But in this world?

In that moment of meeting, Mukuro's scattered mind, vague memories, connected all at once, and familiarity struck him. But this intense feeling of emotion and longing, this recognition that hit him so suddenly in that moment was not his;

It was the dying man's in another room.

And Mukuro, seeing this woman, this raped memory that met reality so harshly, he quivered all at once, and recalled:

"Ausiliatrice," he muttered, and she went forward to catch the small child before he crumbled, not knowing why, but knowing he knew something, that he knew _someone_ , and the small uttering of her name gave her confirmation that this child both knew who she was looking for, and the fact that this child needed help.

And she always had a soft spot for children.

And as he shivered, she held him gently and spoke to him softly until he gathered himself.

"Let's help," Ausiliatrice told him gently, but firmly, because she came here with a job, a reason, and she knew, she knew, she _felt_ they were running out of time, "each other find who we are looking for."

And Mukuro Rokudo shifted heterochromatic eyes upwards, unflinchingly meeting abyssal. And nodded. She stood and held out her hand.

And he took it.

* * *

They found him as she would have found him alone, sputtering and dying, and bleeding out; but still grinning when he sees them.

"Ah," He choked out as she rushed to his side, leaving Mukuro, slightly wide eyed, and unsure, at the doorway, "you two met, yeah? That's good." But she found no humor in his words, as she knelt by his side, and held his hand.

In one world, this meant his death. But in this one?

"Mukuro, buddy," Mateus called, "listen, yeah? Look, Ausil," and she didn't bother to correct him, instead just gripping his hand tighter, "look, he's a talented kid, you know? Real fighter-"

"So are you," Ausiliatrice reminded him softly, and Mateus nodded weakly in agreement.

"Hell yeah," he gargled in agreement, coughed blood, then restated, "fuck yeah, but damn, this kid- Mukuro," he called, angling his head and wincing as he looked to the child, "I need you, kid. Yeah? I need your help, okay?"

And Mukuro, who had been solemnly standing at the doorway, unsure of the situation, mind still muddled of flashes of the relationship he was now witnessing with his own eyes, in this reality, came forward at this call, hesitantly so (blaming himself, believing his mere presence to be the factor that will make this matter worse).

"Ausil, look, this kid – Mukuro, he's sweet, great, he really is," and here, Mukuro winced at the praise, thinking it to be untrue, "he's a really talented kid, with illusions, a great illusionist, better than Hecate- "and he coughed violently, and Ausil gripped his hand once more.

But those few words were enough to connect thoughts (especially with minds that were already linked).

"Can you?" Ausiliatrice asked, pinning Mukuro suddenly with intense (pleading?) eyes.

"I-I," he stuttered, then reaffirmed, "I'll try." And as Mukuro set to work on building a new reality (one where this man lived, he _had_ to live), Ausiliatrice hesitated, looking to her love once more,

"Sun?" She asked and he answered immediately:

"Flower." And she kissed his forehead, lingering, and then pushing away from him and rising.

"I'll find medical equipment," she told them, hating to leave (because what if this didn't work, what if she wasn't there, living to see his last moments?), "Time," she took a breath, and told Mukuro, "that's all we need."

And meeting her gaze, knowing her through the memories of the man who had been the only glimpse of warmth of light, _of sky_ , throughout his existence (because he had already been forced to shuffle through lifetimes, and what torture that was), and he knew she was trusting him, the one who was the direct cause of that same man's suffering and possibly death?

 _Time._

That, Mukuro promised, determined as he placed an illusion on the man's body, tricking it into believing it wasn't falling apart as it truly was, he could at least try to give.

* * *

"You're leaving soon," She accused the boy, abyssal eyes looking out the open door, watching as Mateus played with the two other boys (barely wincing, watching his wounds meticulously, hoping that they wouldn't reopen, despite the time they had spent resting, healing, waiting). Heterochromatic eyes (so calm and collected, and so unlike he had been when she first met him, bare and open and vulnerable; but she recalled this shift came immediately after reuniting with the other boys, his followers, people who looked up to him), glanced up from the book he had been studying, almost going upwards to her, but turning instead to align with her own line of sight.

"I was wondering," Mukuro said, careful, she noticed in his wordings, and wisely so. He had been thinking about this for a long time now, after the decision he had made the night for they escaped, the night he massacred his entire family.

"I was wondering," he continued, "if we really needed to split ways."

"Depends," she said evenly, knowing his intentions, knowing the look in his eyes (and fearing it almost, but that wasn't the right word? Pitying? Feeling sadness and empathy for what he wanted, but knowing that look well enough, having seen it in enough men's eyes to know that Mukuro would not change this doomed path).

"You want revenge," she stated calmly, her eyes moving away from the two boys and the man, and to the cold and ruthless child (so young, so young) that sat close to her. He didn't respond, for words weren't needed to confirm this. His eyes (those eyes, those eyes), were enough.

"What you want…." She said, airing caution as well, "You're going somewhere where we will not follow. Somewhere I will not allow _him_ to follow," and she said this as a warning, looking at Mateus, knowing the two boys to be a lost cause (they'll follow him to their deaths, she knew, and it was almost honorable if it were not children marching as the piper played death). She allowed a moment for her words (a threat?), to resound.

He was smart, she thought, to come to her for this, for he knew that she would be the problem if he tried to force. He was not strong enough to force these two into anything, but neither, he would admit only to them, did he want to do so. There was a connection to Mateus now, and it was stronger than before.

Which is why, he would never admit, he didn't want to let them go.

But Ausiliatrice would never tolerate him trying to hold them.

"I want you to know this," Ausiliatrice confirmed, and this was almost an apology. Not entirely, however: she was unapologetic in the way she protected her partner, and herself. And where Mukuro was heading? She couldn't guarantee Mateus's safety and that was unacceptable (it was a curse, to love someone so quick to sacrifice himself, and if that is cruel to those who he wants to kill himself for? She could live with that)

(she almost lost him once, and love of children or not, she refused to risk losing him again)

(Mukuro is strong, Mukuro is cunning, and Mukuro is prideful; he would never bow down to their wishes, anyway, and she respected him enough to not try to hold him back).

"Thank you," Mukuro said quietly.

"Don't," she was quick to reprimand, "you're the reason Mateus is alive, and yet we're parting out of my selfishness. You have nothing to thank us for."

And Mukuro nearly grimaced at the inaccuracy of her statement.

(Outside, the children laughed; ominously reminiscent of chains clinking)

* * *

"You disagree."

It had been an hour since the children had left. And the partners were gathering their few belongings to leave the countryside where they had been planted in the duration of Mateus's healing. The man himself, now bare of bandages and displaying scars layered upon scars across bare shoulders, frowned at the accusation. But defended, turning to face her:

"They're kids, Ausil. We could take care of them. We _should_."

And she agreed. And yet:

"Mukuro's eyes…" She said, looking down and hesitating before folding she shirt she was holding, "he'll do what he wants no matter what, and drag us down with him, whether he intends to or not." A breath, and she put the cloth into the bag and turned to him, moving forward. Looking up into his eyes, she whispered question, and he answered just as softly. They interlocked hands.

"I won't let that happen," she confirmed, tightening her grip and looking at his chest (mesmerized with it's rise and fall, infatuated with that movement), "If you truly want to follow him, then I'll be there with you…. But I won't lose you again. Know this."

He sighed; such a sad and heavy sound. Another whisper, and it's echo from her; he cupped her face gently, and lifted her eyes to meet his.

"You really think he'll do it, yeah? What he wants?"

"We can only watch. I only want us to," she said, and his eyes widened slightly, this being as close to pleading as he had even seen her. And at this he softened, his other hand rubbing circled gently into hers. "Mukuro is strong," she continued, "and those two will follow him because of this."

Another sigh, another question and his hand fell away from her face only to join his other, now linked around her waist. The two began to sway lightly, without the aid of music.

"We'll see them again," she told him, voice muffled as she leaned against his chest.

"Promise?" he asked, closing his eyes as he rest his chin on her head.

And she couldn't bring herself to answer.

* * *

 _"[She] lies in the White House Rose Garden. She lies there for years. Moss grows on her face. She is trying to remember what really happened. She is trying to understand what that even means._

 _'Isn't this all really happening now? But it doesn't feel like it!' It feels like what was real was left behind longs ago, and now even the raindrops on her upturned face are a series of tiny lies."_

* * *

"It reminds me of you," She told him, their arms interlocked softly as they looked at the painting.

"Nah," he said with a cocky flash of teeth and crinkle of skin beneath the eyes, "it's you, yeah?" And she huffed lightly in disagreement, eyes coyly side-eyeing him before returning to the painting of the sunflower.

"U-um, excuse me?" A dainty voice called in French. And the two looked beside them, seeing a vibrant, but small red-headed girl, freckled brilliant and face blushing, becoming much more so once both light brown and black eyes were fixed onto her.

"Ah," she said, pointing fingers together, "I-I noticed you were looking at my painting, yes?"

"Yes!" Mateus said, speaking French as well, "It is beautiful, yeah? You are the artist then? "he asked, rather choppily.

"It truly is beautiful," Ausiliatrice took over with far more fluidity, putting her other hand on Mateus's arm, cautioning him and his excitement seeing the other girl become more and more flustered. But her move seemed obsolete, seeing that once her own eyes turned on the girl,

Vivian nearly fainted, growing far more heated, barely being able to handle the full attention of the woman she swore to be the most beautiful person the artistic had seen in her life.

(the man, she would later think, was truly lucky; both, she corrected, thinking back and noticing how the couple had reacted so casually to their other half)

(but Vivian was lucky too, simply getting the chance to meet Ausiliatrice in this world)

(a muse always found it's artist, in the end)

* * *

"You're thinking of something," she accused him casually and with the simple turn of a page. He flared his nostrils, looking up from her, where his head was laying in her lap. She lifted her arms just as he rose. She sighed, putting her book down and looking over at him.

"It's about my father," she pegged before the words fell from his mouth, which now hung slightly agape. An awkward smile, a try at recovery.

"How did you know?' He asked with a crooked grin. A crinkle of dark skin.

"You're not exactly efficient at hinting, Mateus," she accused, referring to the recent times he had attempted to casually bring the concept of her father into conversations.

"Look," he said, diving straight in, as he usually did, knowing well that this was the best way to approach her, "me finding my mom was a lost cause, yeah? But your old man? He's basically right there, Ausil!"

She clicked her tongue and returned to her book:

"Ausiliatrice."

"Look, I know that you're happy where you are right now- "

"With you," she reminded him, glancing over almost harshly. She softened, seeing the genuine concern, the love in his eyes. A sigh, and he continued his pursuit.

"But you need this, don't you? Closure?" he asked, leaning forward a bit, but not touching, careful not to without consent, as she shifted and looked to the window of their small apartment. But at this, she looked over at him. And he answered the question, and doubt conveyed in that one look.

"I don't know if it will give you that," he told her truthfully, "but goddammit, it wouldn't hurt to try, yeah?"

A moment, of their hands touching, and sharing the air comfortably. Then:

"You're annoying, you know?"

And he grinned.

* * *

"Name's Mateus," He said, nearly clapping and gripping Dino Cavallone's hand with as much strength as Dino expected from a man of his size. "Tall, but not as tall as me, dark and brooding behind me, is Ausiliatrice."

And light brown eyes, different than Mateus's, she noticed, far more ambered, shifted from the large, intimidating but almost overly friendly man, to the tall woman who stood slightly behind, shifted far more at an angle that would be considered at his side, as opposed to completely behind him and blindly following.

And she simply nodded a greeting.

Dino Cavallone could admit that he was intimidated, almost threatened by Mateus. Although his lumbering appearance surely contributed to this, this fact was not what put Dino on edge when first meeting the man and watching him. There was an air that brushed wrong against Dino, and seeing Mateus interact with his men, and seemingly earning their trust just on his first day? It put the don even more on edge.

He watched as the man interacted so causally, laughed so boisterously with his men, with his family, and wondered why he felt such hostility to this man he had just met today. It was as if it was instinct, Dino almost felt territorial, seeing this. Something flamed and licked at his inner caverns and broiled and heated, and it made Dino uncomfortable, despite his best efforts.

However, this feeling embered and snuffed out immediately upon noting an interaction:

Dino watched, his mind only barely occupied with the card game as his two (new) bodyguards met once again. He watched with interest as the large man immediately softened when approaching the woman, even though her posture stayed much the same, and he whispered, close to her but not touching, and she mouthed back, nodding; and he carefully, softly, so gently, linked arms with her, and grinned so softly, such a meek, and yet strong flashing of teeth. Dino was nearly amazed, witnessing the amount of happiness shine in Mateus's eyes at outcome at such a small and simple matter, and he looked for the same reaction in the woman, but found himself lacking:

No, he corrected, looking closer, she was displaying this too, but in a far different way. While he radiated and shone with this, her glow was softer, her shields were still up, but she was content in her own way, and reacted to him the same.

And it was at that moment, his flames quelled, for they understood. And Dino felt foolish and ashamed of his hostility towards this man who had already found his family, who had already found his _world_ ;

(he felt stupid, idiotic, for even subconsciously thinking that this other man was trying to take Dino's family away from the don)

And in that moment Dino realized his want to see them happy, despite just meeting this couple today. He smiled softly, allowing his men to beat him in this small game, and laughing with them, happy, happy, happy, and _warm_.

(It was amazing, he thought, to see such different definitions of family. Dino enjoyed his large family, but was always amazed to see just as much love on one so small)

(but that was all they needed)

* * *

Ausiliatrice was concerned; Dino had approached them after his card game ended. The conversation had begun innocently enough, with their charge simply wanting to know his two newly appointed bodyguards better, and she allowed Mateus to handle the conversation. The problem?

Dino and Mateus were beginning to get along almost too well. And although she loved her partner dearly, she only needed one of him, thank you kindly, and may have taken up the offer of another drink from Romario too quickly when he had asked the group.

And soon enough, she found her fingers at her temples as the two men nearly giggled in giddiness, relaying stories of bizarre clumsiness and bar jokes they had overheard (she swore, she never would have believed the idea of Mateus corrupting someone, and yet here she was witnessing it before her very eyes, Dino being the poor sheltered child he was).

Despite this, the four (including Romario, who seemed to feel some pity for Ausiliatrice as he kindly refilled her glass) soon where the only remnants of the party,and Mateus seemed to grow confident enough to try to coyly slip their true intentions into the conversation.

"Heard that that world's greatest hitman guy was tutoring you, yeah? I was hoping he would be around, you know?"

"Ah, actually, Reborn just left a few days ago," Dino said, blinking slowly and wincing slightly as he tried to stand, announcing his intentions to retire for the night, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

Seeing her chance, Ausiliatrice jabbed Mateus harshly in the side as they stood, merely causing him to double over slightly, more out of dramatics than actual pain. She huffed and moved ahead of him, throwing her hair over one shoulder.

"Have a little tact."

"You know that's impossible for me, right?" Mateus said, holding his side and laughing as she stalked off. "We'll find him soon, yeah? I mean, he's abound to visit sometimes. Or hey!" He called, jogging to catch up to her.

"Maybe, we'll visit him!" He said as he slowed to her pace. And she rolled her eyes, not even sparing him a glance.

"Doubt it."

* * *

He wriggled his eyebrows at her, leaning over from his seat placed in front of her. Her eye nearly twitched.

"Sun?" She asked, her voice suddenly feigning innocent, and a sultry smile on her face. His cocky looked barely faltered.

"Flower?" He asked with question.

And she pushed his face back, forcing him back to his seat, sitting beside their charge. Ausiliatrice huffed, crossing her arms and looking to the window, Romario chuckling slightly from his seat beside her. Dino smiled as well, having witness the incident.

"Did you learn Japanese too then, Mateus?" Din made conversation as Mateus properly situation himself as the plane hit a small patch of turbulence.

"Huh? Ah, well," He said, looking over. A blink, as he reviewed the question. And then, in a rare moment, the darker man grew slightly embarrassed.

"He did not," Ausiliatrice answered easily form behind them, in slow Japanese.

"Yeah," Mateus said, nodding with confidence, and gesturing lightly to her, "what she said."

And Dino didn't know whether to be surprised, or exasperated.

(It was ironic, Mateus being far more vocal, but Ausiliatrice surpassing him in communication)

(Although, with how he got along with everyone, Mateus had never truly felt blocked by this type of barrier, same tongue of not)

* * *

The first thing Tsuna noticed upon entering his room, already perturbed by the pure number of dangerous Mafioso lingering in front of his house, was the extremely large, huge, muscular man that was there. The second, after initial panic upon seeing such a hulking figure, was his calm demeanor. But was that the right word? There was an energy to him after all, and it wasn't exactly a tranquil one, nor was it aggressive or hostile, or reserved as the dark-skinned woman's was; peaceful, was perhaps a better word.

And the small part of Tsuna's mind that picked up on this is what calmed the boy down, allowing him to focus on other figures in the room.

But while Tsuna moved on, Mateus remained amused by the boy.

"You're funny, you know?" He told the boy, speaking Italian, and earning a shriek from Tsuna as Mateus clapped a strong hand on his back. He nearly shook looking up fearfully as Ausiliatrice sighed.

"He doesn't speak Italian," she reminded him, speaking the language mentioned. And her partner blinked, and then laughed.

"Doesn't mean we can't be friends!" And while Ausiliatrice sighed and put a hand to her forhead, Tsuna, despite not knowing what the man had said,

Somehow knew there was truth to his words.

* * *

"So listen," Mateus said, plopping himself down in the seat across from the Arcobaleno. "You know she's your daughter right? And she knows you're her father. And I'm not saying you guys are gonna magically make up and bond, yeah? But you need to talk, okay?"

"Are you telling me what to do?" Reborn warned with a dangerous glint, but it faded as Mateus laughed, loudly and robust, in response.

"Shit, you guys really are blood, aren't you? Both prideful to, which is shitty, but just who you are," and at this, he shrugged and continued, "Look, knowing Ausil, she's not gonna budge, right? And I don't really know you that well, so there's hope that you're gonna put that aside first. It would be nice, yeah?"

And the Arcobaleno placed his mouth in a firm line in response.

"If you feel ashamed," Mateus said, growing more serious and knowing (feeling) exactly where he needed to jab, "fuck that. You're the world's greatest hitman. Hell, she's built herself in your image, you know? Look in a mirror, my man," he said wisely, and then broke this sudden moment of wisdom by grinning once more and winking, "Think about it, yeah? We'll be around."

And Mateus left Reborn to his thoughts.

Ausiliatrice met him in the hallway, returning from her talk with Tsunayoshi. Her eyes flickered to the kitchen, and then to her partner.

"I won't say it," She said as he opened the door for her, and she ducked under his stretched-out arm. And she didn't have to. He kept his grin bright and newly minted. And replied:

"You're welcome."

* * *

Although, unlike Mateus and Dino, she had turned down the offer to join the children's (and her father's, and it was odd, seeing someone she had imagined to be serious for so long act so bizarre and play so foolishly) games, that didn't mean she wasn't watching.

It was more efficient this way, she told herself, for Mateus to be close to Dino, while she surveyed from a distance, an efficient way to guard their charge.

And as she guarded and watched, a warm feeling fluttered, seeing Mateus play with these children, and laugh at them, slowly learning Japanese from them (Yamamoto Takeshi, she noticed, being very helpful, making absurd gestures and movements that Mateus somehow understood and reciprocated), and laugh and be happy.

It was nice, to see him happy.

(and she felt guilt for keeping this from him for so long)

* * *

 _"[She] would feel no grief. She would never have to feel grief again. She would stand, ageless and smiling, on bandstands, on stages, waving, her smile distant (not even a smile, but a performance of a smile, waving, on bandstands, on stages, griefless, waving, ageless, smiling."_

* * *

"Tsuna wouldn't be cruel," he asked, stopping his pacing of the hall, looking up at her as he asked, "right?"

"Kind people," she said, not looking up from the ground as she leaned against the closed door of Dino's office, marinating the information they had just been told and considering it, "can be cruel, Mateus. You know this."

"I know, I know," he said, pacing again and throwing his arms up and folding them behind his head. "I…" and here he hesitated, knowing his statement would bring guilt. He continued, still:

"I miss them, you know? And hearing this…." he gestured hopelessly behind her. A gesture that conveyed so much (regret, regret, regret, of not trying to hold onto something that wasn't tangible), such a blatant accusation without intent behind it. And still, it struck, even thrown blindly.

"I know," she breathed out. Another breath, and she hurt, but did not show him this.

"I know."

* * *

 _"[He] complained of headaches. He was experiencing more as the years went on."_

* * *

He continued to grumble, multiple times, each in different octaves. Ausiliatrice elected to ignore this, treating her partner much in the manner of a pouting child. Dino, however, was growing slightly annoyed and uncomfortable at the thought of getting involved. But with another sound from Mateus –

"Okay, can you guys talk about this?" He pleaded, turning back to look at Ausiliatrice.

"Talk about what?" She said, not looking up from her magazine. Mateus grumbled again. Dino simple gestured at the man sitting next to him.

"I know you're annoyed at Iemitsu," and here, she scrunched her nose at the thought of the man just in the next cabin, "and I know he's annoyed at… _something_ ," cue another noise from Mateus, "but I really don't think I can handle both of you being annoyed at the same time."

"Why did you accept the gun, huh?" Mateus finally asked, joining Dino and turning back to face Ausiliatrice with almost a hurt frown. She blinked up at him, frowning slightly herself.

"It's a nice gun." He blinked.

"That's it? That's your reason?"

"That it," she confirmed. A moment. And then he grinned.

"Okay, we're cool then, yeah?" He nodded in confirmation and plopped down into his seat once more, much happier. Dino blinked, looking between the two.

"…. What?!" Dino asked, and then looked to Romario in question. He blinked, and gestured at the two, now content that their small misunderstanding was solved. Romario gave a sympathetic smile.

"You'll understand when you fall in love, boss," he reassured the younger man.

And Ausiliatrice couldn't' help but smile at this.

* * *

"So, I'm just going to state facts: my student can kick your student's ass, to the _extreme_."

"… I regret you taking him on as your pupil so deeply," she muttered, blinking blankly at him, "And you do want to correct yourself, or should I point out the many faults in your statement?"

"Nope," he said, grinning and folding his arms behind his head, "look, when we get to that bar, let's get Shamal in on this, yeah? Really find out whose student is better."

"Your student is a hyperactive boxing fanatic. His student is a pyromaniac lapdog. I win."

"Oh, come on, Ausil-"

But before she could correct him further, they both stiffened and hid themselves. A single Varia underling dropped onto the empty street where the two stood seconds before. He moved to speak into his communicator, but an axe cut into his back before he could even utter a sentence.

Mateus stepped to retrieve his weapon, flicking blood off as Ausiliatrice moved to retrieve her guns from under her hair.

"I've always wondered," he asked as she walked forward, "those ever get tangled?" She rolled her eyes, glinting with bloodlust at the thought of the weak intruding on their hunting grounds.

"Let's get to work." And at his partner words, Mateus grinned and clanged his axes together, whooping as ring echoed.

* * *

Mateus looked up on the roof, knowing his partner to be there, watching as always. After sending a playful wink for good measure (and he could almost _feel_ her eye roll, even from this distance), he clapped his hands on his student's shoulders.

"Remember what I taught you," he said in broken and slow Japanese, Ausiliatrice having forced him to learn some between their visits to Japan.

"Chill out!" Ryohei confirmed with a feral grin.

"Hell yeah!" Mateus whooped shaking Ryohei's shoulders. The two yelled together, then head butted, Ryohei staggering back a bit and shaking his head to recover before yelling out happily again. The rest of the tenth generation watched this interaction, a little exasperated, and mostly embarrassed.

"What are they even…" Tsuna muttered in disbelief, and then nearly squeaked as Mateus pulled the young don into their circle, raising spirit for the upcoming battle.

"Go get 'em, kid," Mateus said, patting Ryohei's back once more before pushing him to the arena.

"I'll make you proud!" Ryohei yelled back with a grin, raising both fists before entering the arena.

"I don't understand," Hibari muttered from where he was watching from above.

"I don't either sometimes," Ausiliatrice sighed, nearly shielding her eyes, slightly embarrassed by her partner's loud interactions with his student.

"Not that," Hibari corrected with a bare scrunch of his nose (although, this was lie; he was very confused about his tutor's relation to the loud, happy animal she made company with, and chose as a companion. But perhaps out of respect, and the fact that he knew not to bother Kyoya, the prefect made the decision not to question this out loud).

"He uses weapons," Hibari said, nodding in reference to Mateus's axes, strapped to his broad back, "not fists."

"It's foolish to assume limitations based on that," Ausiliatrice warned, "and Mateus is prominent with fists as well. His physique helps, of course," she admitted with a shrug, "but his skill in this area comes from his younger years. Underground fighting," she said, and left it at that.

That was, after all, how Mateus had gain money and skill when he first started out, and actually hadn't picked his now, go-to weapon until much later. He learned patience, finding brashness to lead into a broken face, leading to the slight deformations he lived with now. Ryohei was young, and had yet to find the experience Mateus had gained from these injuries; and Mateus hoped to express this without the need of such distortions that now marred Mateus for life (not that he hated them; as long as Ausiliatrice still loved him, and she did, he didn't care what he looked like).

 _"So just chill," he told his student, "don't just run in, yeah? Build energy, adapt; even if you lose one hand," he said, tapping Ryohei's extended fist gently, and then moving to raise his other arm, "you have another."_

 _"And if I lose that one?" Ryohei asked with a slight frown._

 _"You have enough energy stored in this one?" Mateus said with a grin, tapping the same arm, "You won't. Got it?" And he stepped back, lifting his own fists._

 _"Now we're gonna spar, yeah? You're gonna get beat up, but not too bad," Mateus said with a shrug and a nod, "You ready?"_

 _"Extremely!"_

And in the end, when it mattered; Ryohei proved that he was.

* * *

"I don't like," Mateus grumbled on their way back from their encounter with Xanxus and Squalo (and Leviathan, but he was a rather small factor in the equation), "how he looks at you." And she stopped walking and looked up at him.

"Sun?" She asked kindly. And he answered, and he allowed her to bend his head softly so she could kiss his forehead.

"Don't be jealous," she said simply before walking away. He blinked, looking after her.

"Jealous?" he asked, and then went after her with a start, "Hey, Ausil, I'm not jealous! Ausil!"

(No, jealous wasn't the right word)

(Insecure fit far more; but this was an alien concept to her)

* * *

"Dreams?" She asked, sitting on the bed with him. He nodded, still looking at the bed.

"Of Mukuro…." He hesitated, barely, and then smiled, chuckling, even laughing a bit. _Happy_.

"I think he's coming."

(and she felt relief)

(it wasn't a lie, after all, all those years ago)

* * *

"No way," Mateus breathed out and then went forward, easily gathering both Ken and Chikusa in his arms (Ken nearly squawking in protest, while Chikusa fully accepted his fate), "No fucking way!"

Chrome stepped back, a bit startled by the large man's sudden seizing of her companions, but soon become much more preoccupied as Ausiliatrice approached her. Chrome grew red, and bowed slightly to the older woman.

"You must be miss Ausiliatrice," she said, her eyes looking away, and then sneaking back, only for her face to darken further, "Mukuro-sama sends his regards."

"And we to him," Ausiliatrice said with nod. Reborn looked between the two warily and with much caution. The other guardians were conflicted, not knowing whether to question Ausiliatrice along with Reborn or find a way to help Ken and Chikusa, who were possibly being hugged to death by Mateus.

"You know Mukuro, Ausiliatrice?" Reborn asked warily.

"We've crossed paths," Ausiliatrice said, sighing and moving to help release the boys from the confines of her partner's strong and crushing embrace.

Reborn watched, eyes slightly narrow as the two interacted to casually with the newcomers,

unknowing of how to feel about this revelation.

* * *

"Ausiliatrice," Mukuro greeted coolly as he walked back to the group after his grand victory, "how pleasant to see you after all the- Mateus no-umph!" And Mateus picked Mukuro up, nearly spinning the comically smaller boy as the man embraced him as he had with the other two.

"He's a hugger," Ausiliatrice warned dryly as she approached the two, Mateus finally setting Mukuro down and chuckling.

"Only vague dreams for years, then a vague-ass message, and you don't expect a bear hug the first time I see you in person?" Mateus asked in Italian, grinning broadly, amused as Mukuro coolly reestablished his composure, obvious bit embarrassed after Mateus's display of excitement.

"I was occupied," Mukuro explained, and then nearly feel forward with another clap from Mateus. He straightened his jacket once more, but caught himself in a yawn, swaying a bit. "Not much time, used too much energy… Ausiliatrice, please take her…." He muttered, before flickering back to Chrome.

And for once, Ausiliatrice followed a command, easily catching Chrome before she hit the ground.

"Take her?" Mateus repeated as the conversation and accusation of Xanxus went over their heads, Mateus kneeling beside his partner as she made sure the girl was okay, "What do you think he meant by that?"

"You're the one with a connection to him," she reminded him, but then thought further:

"But he definitely meant more than just catch."

* * *

"You're bothered about something still," She accused him as they waited for Chrome to wake. "Is it about Xanxus looking at me again?" He was silent for a bit, and then asked boldly.

"Do you think he's handsome, Ausil?"

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected, and then answered with a bare scrunch of her nose, "and I don't see why it matters."

"Do you think he's more attractive than me?" he asked, quieter. She frowned at this.

"Why." It was far more of a statement, than a question. He sighed, and shifted again in his chair.

"You're beautiful, yeah?" He began, "and I'm fucking ugly, right," and he continued before she could speak against this, "and people see us, and think, fuck, why the hell is someone like her with someone like him," and she hated the way he said that, but allowed him to continued, knowing he needed to get this off his chest, "and I've never thought about it much, yeah? Because I know you love me, I love you – god," he said, allowing a small smile, "do I fucking love you, you know? But… when someone like him? He's smart, and strong, yeah? Fucking boss of the Varia, son of Vongola…. He's handsome too, right? And I… people see you and him together, and they would think that makes sense. That it fits. I think about that sometimes, you know…" he admitted sadly, "and I think if you…. You wouldn't," he confirmed with a sad shrug, "I know you would never, but still…"

She opened her mouth. And then closed it, thinking better.

She had never really had a problem with self-confidence. She had always worked to improve herself, and secure herself as one of the best (to both prove she was her father's blood, and that she was not her father). But she had never excelled in empathy, unless it reflected her own life closely. This was a foreign concept to her, such a lack of confidence in this aspect.

She couldn't relate; but this didn't mean she couldn't comfort.

"I love you," she confirmed after a silence, and she leaned closer to him, whispering question and only touching his face when he answered, "I love the color of your eyes, and the texture of your face. I love your scars, and your arms. And I love these things because I know they are yours. I love these because they identify that you are you. Don't doubt this," she said, pressing her forehead against his, "please."

And he sighed, and allowed his eyes to close.

"It's not your love that I doubt," he told her.

(it's the odds of it)

* * *

 _"[She] has not aged. In fact, she appears younger than before. At night, she walks among the monuments in D.C., serene and alone, not even a Secret Service escort with her. Anyone who tries to approach finds themselves pushed back by a faint mist that smells of apple and spice, and feels like thousands of needles. Witnesses claim her feet are not even touching the ground. Her arms seem longer than they used to, as though they were the only part of her body continuing to change."_

* * *

"I'm guessing I can't come along right?" Mateus asked in good humor. She sighed and looked over at him. She approached and held his cheek after asking.

"No doubts?" She asked him softly.

"I trust you," he confirmed, his hand going to softly hold hers against the side of his face. She nearly hesitated, and then softly pecked her lips against his. He blinked, surprised at this act, and let her softly slip from his grasp.

"You would come," she admitted, "but you intimidate him," and at this thought, he smiled almost cockily, but sobered with her next statement, "and this is something we share. An understanding between the two of us. Stay with Dino."

She held out her hand, and he held it once more.

"I'll let you know when I'll be back."

"Stay in touch," he said, squeezing her hand. And she smiled softly and nodded.

"I will." And this time, it was a promise that would be kept.

"Have fun on your field trip with Xanxus!" He yelled after her, leaning out the door, "I'll hold down the fort, and keep the cash flow up while you're gone, yeah?"

And he grinned as he watched her go, folding his arms as he turned and sauntered to Dino's room to tell him the news. He stopped however, eyes widened with realization.

"Fuck!" He said, gripping his head, "I totally forgot to get her and her old man to make up!"

* * *

 _"Stay tuned next for a hypothetical history that we are all making up together, continuously, just by living it."_

* * *

 _AN:_

 _ **Would you guys be interested in me starting a blog (on tumblr) for this story?** I would totally do it if there was interest; I could post little sketches of Ausil, and you guys could ask questions about the story anytime, and I could keep you updated on when I would post/if there is going to be a set back in my usually weekend update. So let me know either by review or PM if you guys want that. I've been playing around with url names, and so far the only funny ones I've thought of Mateus-is-dead, or Mateus-Lives or something hilarious along those lines (lmao, don't kill me)._

 _I love writing Mateus so much. He's such a fun character to write. Too bad he's dead in "canon". Also, note that these are just small excerpts of possibilities? If that makes sense? So, of course, if things stayed pretty much the same (like Mateus not stopping her from fighting Iemitsu, like he's going to try to get involved with that Lmao), then it's just not mentioned. If you have any questions, of just want to talk about this, feel free to review or message me (or ask on the blog, if that becomes a thing)._

 _Next chapter we're back on track with "canon", so yay!_

 _Oh, and bonus points for anyone who can guess who the Night Vale episode is about without having listened to it (hint, it's about one of America's Presidents)_

 **Review Response:**

 **ren7720:** No, that wasn't her main reason, but it's hinted that that's waht Reborn thinks was her main reason. She just doesn't tell anyone what's she's doing, lmao. Thanks for the review!

 **riceberri:** Aw, thanks for following for so long and sticking around! I'm glad that you liked last chapter so much! I have a lot of fun writing this fic, so I'm glad that you appreciate everything! Reborn is such a complex and interesting character to write, and it means so much hearing you say that the writing style fits him. And nah, rambling is chill. And yes, sibling relationship with Hibari for the win~ Thanks for the review!

 **Blacksky:** Glad you're back! And, lips still sealed about the harmonizing thing. Lmao. Suffer. And here's some Mateus (ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED). And hey, also Mukuro! And Chrome is bae.

And I'm glad that last chapter lived up to your expectations, aha. Reborn's such a fun character to write, bruh. And Esmeralda too. And I don't know if Reborn and Esme raising Ausil together would work? Honestly I kind of hint that they would never stay together long term, so I don't know it I want to mess with that, my man. And yep, Fon's daughter will come up again. That much I can say. Thanks for the review, as always.

 **Guest:** I'm glad I can invoke emotion in you, and even more proud that it's one of terror. And I'll leave you to your own interpretation of the definition of "lit". And YAS, I had a blast writing Reborn. It was lit. And, yeah I love seeing how different people take his character and express, since he had so many faucets to go off of. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest** (continued? If this is the same person as above): Glad you're rereading it, haha! And oh god, stay away from my other stories, please. Thanks for the review!

 **weaver yk:** maybe someday, they will make up. But not on this day, even in this universe, lmao. Thanks for the review!

 _-Evenly_


	25. Lesson 25: To Tell

**Lesson 25: Her Mother Taught Her to Tell**

* * *

 _"All the rowboats in the paintings_

 _They keep trying to row away_

 _And the captains' worried faces_

 _Stay contorted and staring at the waves_

 _They'll keep hanging in their gold frames_

 _For forever, forever and a day_

 _All the rowboats in the oil paintings_

 _They keep trying to row away, row away"_

 ** _\- "All the Rowboats", Regina Spektor_**

* * *

He stood at the head of a grand ballroom, and vaguely, he recalled it from his childhood. Its expansiveness hit him, as if looking at it from a lower perspective. As if looking at it with wonder and amazement (and fear), as he had when he first arrived in this strange, new, and vast estate that he would soon call home (be _forced_ to call home, coherced). And yet, he was looking at it elevated, from a high level.

And Xanxus looked down and watched as people danced and laughed and greeted, all faces covered in masks and waving and shielding expressions only guessing at gleeful. Lions prowled, tigers and leopards danced between their feet. Waiting and soldering in bloodlust, as it wafted like music through the air, giving the people a tune to shuffle their feet to.

He found himself sitting in a throne, looking at this strange scene as if tinted in rose gold. But a much deeper red, far more violent, and yet this was normal to him, this was _right_ , wasn't it? A man with long silver tresses, face covered with a mask like everyone else (but he was different wasn't he, he wasn't _supposed_ to be faceless) bowed lowly before Xanxus. He extended his hand and allowed the man to place a ring upon it.

And Xanxus was fascinated with the way his blood burned so suddenly the moment the smooth metal slid against his skin. Lions increased their prowl, the tigers' great muscles tightened, the leopards nearly grinned and the people danced faster in anticipation.

Xanxus sat above them all, grinning almost emptily. He raised his hand, eyes trailing his arms. There were no scars.

"This is how it's supposed to be, isn't it?" a low, melodic voice kissed into his ear, voicing his inner concern. He looked to his left, seeing a woman without a mask. Dark skin immaculate, body draped in a red dress, hair, dark and loose and wild. She sat on the armrest, one arm draped around Xanxus, the other hand resting gently on a lioness, standing at her side.

Gold eyes glittered and turned on Xanxus, fixing him with a stare before the great beast moved forward all at once. The lioness pounced atop the man with silver hair, and tore his throat with one great opening and closing of her jaw.

And in this moment, the melody of bloodlust reached its climax, and music turned reality as the other predators of the room took to their prey. The dancers didn't even scream, their masks simply smiling as great claws and teeth tore in sacks of waltzing meat, simply to paint the floor a beautiful red.

Xanxus watched as blood stained the ballroom floor, his grin remaining empty. The woman beside him shifted towards him, and he could only faintly respond and encase her waist with his own arms as she straddled him.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" She asked as she too held him and leaned forward, his ears falling mute to his surroundings as he focused on what was only within arm's reach.

(were those screams, he was hearing? Vaguely above the growls and roars that dominated and echoed through the room. But no, but no, this was only music to his ears, only music, only music, vocal pain merely violins)

And as she gripped him and pushed back, their body's fell to the soft pilfer of a bed. His hands wandered across her back, and she allowed him to unzip her dress. And as it crimpled and fell around her, her lips pressed messily to his jaw and trailed downwards to his throat.

He felt the ring on his finger grow hot.

He felt his scars growing icily again across his skin, far more searing than the rejection of the ring.

He felt her teeth brace the skin of his neck, morphing sharp and fang like. Her felt her jaw widen and enclose around his neck.

She wrung back, ripping his throat from him,

And he screamed.

He woke, in cold sweat, his hands going to his throat immediately, gripping it as if he were to choke himself. Breathing heavily, he felt his hands fall away, one sliding down his bare chest and feeling the scars etched into his skin, forever remaining, forever marring. He ran a hand through his hair, throwing his legs over the side of his bed.

He looked, seeing an empty, glass bottle at his bedside. He picked up, the glass cold and texture scathingly smooth against his texture palm.

A moment, just before the silence became unbearable.

And he threw it against the wall with a strong and broken yell, rage drowning the beautiful sound of shattering glass.

* * *

"A pleasure," a melodic, low voice greeted as he closed the door, "to meet you, Ninth boss of Vongola."

His grip tightened on his sceptor, and his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of his office, heavy curtains successfully filtering the light, suppressing it as it strained through the glass of the windows. He relaxed, if only slightly, seeing the woman sitting casually and sideways in his own chair, one leg splayed over an armrest, and despite having greeted him, her eyes on the picture frame she was holding in her hand.

Timoteo smiled, if stiffly and hobbled forward and to a lesser chair. Still injured heavily, with actual need to use his cane, he fell with difficulty and likely pain into one of the chairs facing his desk. Ausiliatrice remained where she was.

"Usually," Timoteo commented, almost if he were chuckling, "people say that with _actual_ pleasure. Although I mean it when I say that it is a pleasure to meet you, Ausiliatrice. However," he said with a glint that nearly resounded a scoff from her, "I do wish it was under different circumstances."

"How did you get in?" He asked seriously, becoming much more cold as opposed to the warmth that lingered in his tone earlier.

"My means of entry is currently reconnecting with her former student. _Your_ ," she made a point in expressing, "mist guardian. But that doesn't matter."

"You're here," The ninth addressed with a small nod, "and the only reason I haven't notified my guardians of such a break in is that you're the daughter of an old and loyal friend."

"You also don't think I'll attack you, which is wrong," Ausiliatrice called out (and this sent a cold and striking shiver along the ninth's spine), turning the picture in her hands to him, "I see your three sons here. Massimo," she labeled, tapping their faces lightly with elegant fingers as she listed them, "Enrico, and Frederico. Drowned, shot, and burned. Your wife died shortly after your youngest was born. From natural causes?" She said lastly, referring to the smiling woman standing with the three boys. The ninth's head barely dipped as he spoke.

"You don't need to remind me, dear," He said evenly, "What are you doing exactly, relaying this to me?"

"Oh, I'm just counting, Timoteo," She said, putting the frame down and looking him straight in the eyes (oh how peculiar, how _chilling_ , seeing this exact image, these exact eyes once more, reliving such a fresh memory), "Can you count?"

"I believe I can," He muttered, watching as she rose and went to inspect a bookshelf instead.

"Apparently not," she corrected, picking up an ornate gun and inspecting it and it's label (a gift, Timoteo noted, from the Second's time that was left unneeded and unused).

"I'm taking Xanxus with me, and would like for you to take no action against it," She stated, not even bothering to turn and look him in the eye for such a statement.

"And you expect me to just let you do so?" He questioned, possibly dared in a calm, but stone manner.

"I expect you," she said, turning slightly and only enough to barely look him in the eyes, "to allow him time to calm himself and reflect on his actions before confronting him about them. And be aware that I'm only telling you this because it would be troublesome if the Vongola reacted to him leaving his current cage you've set and locked for the time being."

 _Telling_. Not asking. She was very distinct in her wording on that.

"Think of it," she purred as she set the gun down and turned to him, a predatory smirk playing coy on her lips, "as a free bodyguarding job. Just know that I won't let him out of my sight, and that with me, he certainly won't cause any more trouble until he's back."

"And why should I let you take my son?" He asked cautiously.

"Because I'm going to anyway," she said simply, then detailed, "and it's not me taking him. He certainly can choose to stay caged and fuming, but I certainly think it would be beneficial for all parties if he comes with me, and certainly will be less property damage." And here, the ninth winced at the thought of the already stacking payments, just with Xanxus's return to the Varia headquarters.

"And," she continued, her voice strong and striking, "you certainly can't help him. He's like me. And lucky for you, I feel empathy for those like me."

"Like you?" He asked.

"Outcasts," she answered simply. And she began to walk towards the door.

"Now that you know, do as you please," she said before leaving, "Just be glad I was polite enough to let you know what I'm doing before I do so; few get that courtesy."

And as the shut door resounded through office, the ninth was left to his thoughts as the sound faded.

A chuckle humbly echoed from the caverns of his chest.

"She truly is just like you, Reborn."

* * *

It was haunting, seeing a figure so fresh from his dream (nightmare, nightmare, nightmare, he did well to keep his hand from going to his throat), sitting so casually in a chair in his office.

"Why the fu-"

"I let her in," his second-in-command snapped, standing at the side of the desk. He sneered, the bandaged of his face moving along with its features. Xanxus's own bandaged fist unclenched, his fingers freeing in uncertainty for a moment, and then tightly knitting together once more in confusion and anticipation.

"Get the fuck out," he stated then repeated, gesturing roughly to Squalo, "I said get the fuck out, scum!"

"Fine, you shitty boss!" He screamed back, reflecting just as much anger, grumbling darkly as the two passed. The door slammed as soon as Xanxus sat in his gran chair, red eyes pinning down black, and black doing just the same.

"What do you want?" he said simply, his tone barely making it a question. And she lifted her chin easily, revealing a bit more of her throat (and Xanxus did not know if that calmed or heightened his apprehension more).

"If I said to help, then it would come across as offensive," and from the way his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, she was right, "but I am here to establish an understanding."

He carefully reviewed her once more, eyes perhaps lingering too much in many places (her throat, her throat and how it was bared).

"We're alike," and he snorted at the statement. Days before, he would have been nearly too aggressively eager to agree. But now?

"You have blood," he nearly spat, betrayal in his words, "Mammon told me who your father is."

"You sound offended," she shot back, "which is absurd. I'm a bastard, and no matter who the man who fucked my mother was, that's not exactly a title to bare proudly."

"I lost the only blood important to me when her corpse shriveled in a fire," Ausiliatrice stated coldly, "any other possibilities have yet to prove themselves to me. I grew up only with a woman who shouldn't have been allowed to raise a child, and yet she did it, and here I am today, grateful for the dead. Living family can go fuck themselves for all I care," she said, referring to Esmeralda's side, "and my father certainly didn't claim me then, so why should that mean shit now? Claim is heavy, isn't it?"

And at this, his scars tingled and prickled.

"You want somebody to blame," she told him, "and you can't exactly shoot the Vongola Ninth in his fucking face, and it's not like that exactly worked the first time –"

and here, his expression turned to glowering

" – so let's take it out on your actual blood."

Xanxus studied her once more, all without his eyes leaving hers. Reflected, he saw many things, strength and the fire that first inspired him, still bright and minted and present; but he saw pain too. Regret. A child on the streets, living with a mother undeserving of a child, and he saw a child that formed as consequence of that. That grew strong as consequence of that, because they had to. Strength born of need and then molded to greater potential from addiction to that power.

"Let's go on a little field trip," she said with a grin reminding him why she was a predator, reminding him why she was like him.

(why she could understand, and why he wouldn't mind her with him)

"Fine. Where're we going?"

Her smile was coy and verging on playful.

"To church."

* * *

 _"She slept with the wolves without fear, for the wolves knew a lion was among them."_

 ** _-R.M. Drake_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _ **I made a (tumblr) blog for this story! It's under the url she-has-her-fathers-eyes if you guys want to check it out.** Feel free to ask questions, and even maybe request some things like headcanons and such. I may post sketches on it as well, when I get time, and Ill be able to keep you guys updated on when I can update._

 _I would actually label this as more of a prologue to the next chapter. Sorry it's so short, bit I kind of wanted to get soemthing else out this weekend, I want to spend more time on the next chapter, since it's important and delicate to deal with. I'll be on break for a majority of next week, so I should have more time to work on it, and I'm excited to get it out, since it has the "God Help the Outcasts" scene._

 **Review Response:**

 **Guest:** Haha, glad that the chapter made you happy! Not really glad for the reality hitting you at the end, but I'm not apologetic about it either, lmao. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Yeah, he was back for a little while, and now we're back on track with him being dead. But I did have fun adding more layers to Mateus. And bruh, I love "The Woman from Italy" but "If He Had Lived" is one of my favorite episodes. Thanks for the review!

 **BlackSky:** Bruh. My man, friend. The sooner you accept the fact that I will never tell you about harmonizing the happier you will be. Bruh. And I'll put Reborn's thoughts on Mateus in part 2. Probably. But it was very fun writing Mateus again. And Mateus is a total dad when it comes to Mukuro, Ken, and Chikusa. But now we're back to canon! And lmao, I'm just thinking of Reborn and Esme arguing over who gets Ausil when. Thanks for the review!

 **Circle:** Thank you for the review! Glad that you thought it was lovely

 **Question:**

 **What do you imagine Ausiliatrice's voice to sound like?**

 _Have I ever said that I imagine Auslitrice's voice almost exactly like Garnet's from Steven Universe voice? Becuase that's how I imagine it._

 _-Evenly_


	26. Lesson 26: To Pray

**Lesson 26: Her Mother Taught Her to Pray**

* * *

 _"God help the outcasts_  
 _Hungry from birth_  
 _Show them the mercy_  
 _They don't find on earth_

 _God help my people_  
 _We look to you still_  
 _God help the outcasts_  
 _Or nobody will"_

 ** _-"God Help the Outcasts", The Hunchback of Notre Dame_**

* * *

"Forgive me, Father," Ausiliatrice said solemnly as her body slid elegantly into the confession room, "for I have sinned."

"Oh, I'm well aware of your sins, my child," a voice said before an elderly face was revealed as the priest moved aside the divider that once separated them, "and if you're actually here for confession, then you're going to have to clear you schedule for the day."

She smiled, dryly.

"You joke, Father Salvia," she accused.

"Not about the time it will take," he muttered, shaking his head lightly, "But about you confessing? Yes, that I know to be a falsehood. One could only hope," he said with a genuine, gentle smile.

"Do you have the information?" Ausiliatrice asked, forgoing formalities and small talk, having provided the adequate amount. He sighed.

"It was long ago… but," he continued, looking past Ausiliatrice and to the numerous pews that filled the grand, beautiful church, "you tend not to forget those types. Is the child here?"

"He's grown now," she corrected, but he simply chuckled in response.

"That means nothing in the eyes of God, and I still refer to you the same, do I not?" And at this, she frowned. "You… the children that come to us," he told her, holding out his hand. She hesitated, before putting her own in his, nodding in thanks for his respect. He continued, "You do not change in our eyes either."

"The information," she said again, taking her hand away from him, but doing so gently, "Do you have it?" He sighed, but it was not sad.

"He's still around. People like him tend not to leave," and he said this with sadness, with pity. But Ausiliatrice did not have capacity for that, not with his type. The priest handed her a slip of paper, but once again gently encased her hand with his before she could retreat.

"Ausiliatrice," he said solemnly, almost pleading, "promise me that this man will not be killed as a result of this. I am aware of what you do, my child, and the world you live in, and I understand that. But I do not want this man to die because of this information I am giving you. Will you promise?" He reaffirmed, looking straight into her abyssal eyes, unflinching and clear.

"I promise, Father Salvia," she said, putting her other hand on top of his, and dipping her head.

But Ausiliatrice had never been one of the Faithful.

* * *

Xanxus sat, lax in the pews, laying back as if he were holy and in a destined throne. But this, he realized with a sneer (a grimace?) was an unfamiliar kingdom, and here he was far below a true lord's feet. He watched almost lazily as people, groups, sometime families, approached the front of the church, lowering themselves to kneel and grovel at the stained-glass portraits covering the wall, sunlight filtering through. This washed the church in a beautiful array of colors, none of which Xanxus found attractive. To his left, the Virgin Mary stood above him, looking down at him with pity. He sneered once more, not being able to bear her gaze.

"Are you religious?" A serene, low voice asked. He barely turned, seeing Ausiliatrice approach him, watching prayers lift to vacant skies, just as he was.

"My family is," he said, nearly spitting the words now so tainted (but it was never pure in the first place, was it?). He thought briefly to the old man who took him in, the Ninth, his _father_ , and his blood boiled more, simply at the thought of being anywhere near the bastard at this time. At yet, the old man sat now above the town they were in, living and breathing when he didn't deserve to do so.

"Do you ever pray?" She pursued lightly. And at this, he scoffed.

"My mother and I came to this town once, when I was younger," she confessed, looking around the church in blissful nostalgia, "and I wandered to this church. She left me here, for a while, and Father Slavia took care of me for a few days." And at this, Xanxus hummed, this experience reflecting his own.

Perhaps, even then, their lives had brushed against the other, he considered.

"I always looked at this statue," she said, turning and approaching the statue of Mary, "but I never thought I could touch it. It's meant to mean maternity, purity; motherhood. And yet my mother was nothing like her. I was always confused… but entranced. She holds her hands out, as if inviting. But I never felt I could touch her." And Xanxus didn't need clarification for why.

"Father Salvia was the only one to notice that I wasn't drawn the front like the others," and at these words, Xanxus looked to those she was referring to. Sheep, he defined, trash pledging themselves and wearing their knees to bone for a belief that may fall on deaf ears. That has fallen on deaf ears for him.

"He led to me to her himself, and placed my hand in hers," Ausiliatrice said, calling his attention back to her, approaching the statue, her hand barely hesitating,

before touching it. Dark skin against pale marble. Cool and satin to the touch.

"I've learned over the years," she said as she retracted her hand, staring at the skin as if wondering why it did not burn, "information passes in droves through churches, and I've made a point to keep in touch with such valuable assets. Father Salvia gave us what we need. We can find him."

And he nodded once. Shifting, then standing to his full height. Somewhere in the grand hallways and pillars, a choir practiced. He looked at her, the light from the stained glass windows colored and filtering over her skin, her hair; her eyes were still drawn the Virgin Mary, her welcoming gesture stone and embedded and cold.

"Do you ever pray?" He asked her. She blinked, slowly, and glanced over at him.

"I never thought I'd be answered," she said truthfully. A moment.

"I would never," she said with more thought, "pray for myself. I don't deserve such godly divination, and I doubt I would receive it. But I would ask for nothing for myself. I'm strong enough to get by on my own…" And here, her eyes went again to the front. To the two lone children, separate from the others praying, their clothes worn and ragged. They knelt, so, so far from the others. Father Salvia approached them, smiling gently, extending hands. And they came to him, happily.

"I would pray for others," she admitted, "there are so many like us, who aren't strong. God doesn't help all the outcasts. The least I could do is lend a hand."

Or perhaps, he thought, watching as she left, and following, they could play God, and win.

(but oh, what good has flying to the sun done him so far?)

(It's left him with nothing but burns)

* * *

"Euso?" The bartender nearly sneered, simply repeating the name back, "Bastard was here this morning, but I kicked his sorry ass out until he could pay his tab." Xanxus nearly growled, watching as the man's eyes raked over Ausiliatrice's body. "He owe you too, sweetheart?" And Ausiliatrice barely shifted, putting herself more between Xanxus and the bartender.

"In a way," she said, seeing opportunity, and leaning towards him, propped her arms on the bar, "You have an address, _sweetheart_?"

"Why are you doing this?" Xanxus asked gruffly, kicking the door open and turning as it slammed closed behind her. "Why are you wasting your time?"

"I've tracked far more difficult prey. You know this," and this, this was a jab at him, directly, "I knew the information was attainable, and finding him would be simple. You need a scapegoat-"

"Why," he asked again, glowering and fingers writhing, stinging for the feel his guns, "are you doing this?" And she stared back.

"I told you in the church," she said simply, "and I don't enjoy repeating myself." A warning? A promise to leave him? But then what would he have, besides rage, besides anger? But wasn't that all he needed?

"What's your definition of family, Xanxus?" She asked him. And he couldn't think of a coherent answer.

"Do you know why I took Hibari Kyoya as a student?" She asked when she received silence in return, "Because he's like me. Us. You recognized this, didn't you?" And he did, and his fingers writhed again, reliving the feeling of playing with that boy. "I don't have a definition of family yet," she admitted, "but this is as close as I've fucking got so far. We help each other." And with that, she turned on her heel, and walked away, down the street and further into the slums,

and his fist clenched and tightened.

And he followed.

* * *

She allowed Xanxus to go in first. And gracefully, violently, he kicked down the door. He stepped in, and she followed at a distance, watching silently as he kicked bottle and cans littering the floor from his path. Xanxus moved to the side, dodging a messy gunshot.

A man, wretched and withered, looking much older than he actually was, Ausiliatrice was sure, stood in an open doorway, shaking and holding a gun.

It was sad, Ausiliatrice thought, that she was so quick to see their relation.

"Do you know who I am, trash?" Xanxus asked, lowly. The man, still shaking, remained silent. "Do you know who I fucking am?!" Xanxus asked again, moving forward suddenly, griping the man by his stained shirt and shoving him against a wall. The gun clattered to the ground, never formidable in the first place.

Ausiliatrice watched from the doorway.

The man stuttered and spilled, and then his eyes widened suddenly, seeing Xanxus's features close.

"I-Ileana..." he stammered, only to yell out as Xanxus dropped him and kicked him against the wall.

"You mean that woman you raped?" Xanxus sneered, picking his father up by the hair, "The bitch that you fucking raped and left for dead? My mother?!" And dropped him again, watching coldly as his head banged against the ground. Xanxus, eyes blazing, pressed his foot against the man's head.

"I could torture you in ways you couldn't even imagine. I could peel your skin, turn your muscles into string, and carve her name into your bones so you would never fucking forgot," he snarled, as he pressed harder on his head, the man whimpering. "I could just fucking shoot you," he said, pulling out his gun, and weighing it casually in his hand, "and just be fucking done with it. But you're _pathetic_ ," and he kicked his head once more, "and you don't deserve _shit_."

And at this, he turned and began walking towards Ausiliatrice –

Only to turn back at look at his father, the pathetic man who simply raped his mother, traumatizing her and leading to her later delusions in her life, and her eventually death by her own sanity

– and for one second, he could see himself walking away, never giving this scum a thought again in his life.

And then he yelled out, lifting his gun and shot into his father's body until there were no longer any bullets left to shoot. The flames, the bright flares of discharge, reflected across Ausiliatrice's abyssal eyes as the body was both torn apart and burned. Xanxus stopped, breathing heavily, letting his arm and gun fall to his side. He sneered at the corpse, barely pertaining to that definition.

A moment, the silence blissful and glowing. Ausiliatrice stood at the entrance still, and in that moment of silence, her hands moved to sign the cross, looking to the ceiling and gesturing beyond that, to the heavens.

"Forgive me, Father Salviar," she barely muttered. She then approached Xanxus, waiting until his head turned to her, his eyes still on the ground (still glowing, still blazing), and she paused before putting her hand on his shoulder.

"We should go," and she hesitated, deep in thought and still wading before asking, "Do you mind if we make a detour?"

And vaguely, he nodded in agreement.

* * *

It was barely a skeleton of a building. Burned, and severely so, he noted as they approached. She walked in, however, not looking long at the outside of the building, far more interested in the grave that was its inside. He would have guessed she was walking through the ruins randomly, if she did not stop suddenly and gaze at a particular burnt shape (shapes, he corrected, seeing a small one to the side) in particular. A moment, and he allowed her that.

"This," she said, "is where my mother died."

"And you've only come here now?" he accused.

"You've only killed your disgrace of a father now?" she shot back, and he nearly smirked at this lash, still feeling the rush, still seeing the flash, still feeling the warmth tingling in his fingers. He would have grinned, if he did not notice the solemn, soft look on the woman's face standing next to him.

"Her own family," she said, "cornered her here and set fire to the building. Trapping her."

"Cowards," he labeled, eyes narrowing. And Ausiliatrice nodded in agreement.

"It's fitting for her though," she admitted with a dull roll of her shoulder, "to die in flames." But Xanxus could not easily agree with her, having never met the dead woman they were discussing. He took her word for truth though. A thought, struck him suddenly, and he turned his head to her, almost accusing.

"Why didn't you kill them?" He asked, red eyes narrowing, "Because you haven't yet, right?" She shrugged again (such an empty, dull movement, lacking the bright fire that had drawn him to her in the first place).

"Because," she answered simply, "they aren't even worthy of my bullets, let alone my time." And at this, his eyes widened, if only slightly. And he grew angry.

"Are you saying you're fucking better than me, just because you didn't kill those fucking scum?!" He seethed, but felt a pinch of regret upon seeing the slight surprise in her eyes at his outburst.

"I want nothing to do with those people; they are _nothing_ to me," she told him, growing cold in her words, "and your situation is far different than mine-"

"How the fuck so, huh?" He snapped, and then opened his mouth to roar again before she cut him off.

"Because you're different from your father," she told him, "that was the whole fucking point of this. To find him, for you to see him and realize that. Because you're not the fucking Ninth or even the fucking Tenth of the Vongola, and why the fuck does that matter, anyways?" she said, gesturing with her arm and allowing it to fall. "You have your own family, don't you? And that's a whole lot fucking more than I have, so don't you dare try to compare our situations," she snapped harshly.

"The Vongola's n-"

"The Varia," she corrected before he could start, "You're a leader, and a fucking good one if you can get those people to follow you and keep doing so even after eight years of you on fucking ice."

At this, he simmered and his scars grew hot, but he was silent. For he couldn't correct her.

And then, he laughed, robustly and loud, nearly doubling over.

"You're telling me," he got out, straightening himself, but still grinning ferally, "that this was all because of your fucking daddy issues." And for a moment, he thought she was going to smack him.

But then she began chuckling too, holding her stomach and turning away from him, but only slightly so, giving him a wonderful portfolio of her laughing.

"I mean," she said, straightening, but still grinning, "it was pretty obvious, wasn't it?"

(two predators, standing opposite with wide grins)

(what a brilliant display of teeth)

* * *

"I'm still going to burn the fuck out of that brat if he shows his face around me," Xanxus told her easily, leaning back in his throne once more (at peace? No, but far more than before, with bright, fresh blood on his hands).

"I'd expect no less. But I'm sure Tsunayoshi has enough sense to stay away," she replied, shifting the contents of her drink in one hand, and once again inspecting the gun, gifted to her and crafted by his own hand. She blinked, slowly, eyes shifting from the weapon to him.

Red eyes met black evenly. He rose, and came to lean on the outside of the desk, looking down at her.

"I appreciate the offer," she said, "but I'm not aligning myself with any family right now." He sneered.

"Cavallone?"

"A job," she responded, "It was never my dream to join a family," no, she thought, that had always been Mateus's dream, not hers, "and I enjoy being on my own." He scoffed, putting his arm back to get his own drink.

"Definitely a fucking cloud," he muttered, before taking a sip. And her mouth quirked, ready to correct him –

But his glass shattered, dropping to the ground as memories of the future hit them. Ausiliatrice's eyes widened, struggling to take in the amount of information she was receiving. Her own glass clinked as it hit the ground, cracking but not shattering.

And as their memories settled, only being able to fully comprehend a few things at a time, Ausiliatrice felt her hand on her face, feeling it ( _checking, checking_ ). Xanxus's own expression was vague and slightly terrified, ashamed?

And he met her eyes, and saw pain. He saw her hand on her face, and nearly winced. And he wanted to look away from her hurt, _betrayed_ expression, but it was mesmerizing, seeing her like this –

And she rose all at once, slapping him, hard. And leaving in no longer pain, but _fury_.

Xanxus kept his face turned, only daring to look where she once stood as soon as the door slammed. And he saw the gun sitting where she had once been, just moments before everything changed; so much gained and even more lost in that one moment.

And he yelled out, kicking the chair and turning and using his strength to turn the desk, throwing it into the wall and wrecking the room. He ignored the distant yells of the his second in command, slowly backing and falling into his own chair, sinking into it.

Xanxus slumped, face set in a grimace and body bent as he held his head in his hands, sitting alone in his throne.

(and in that moment, from an angle, it looked as if his head was bowed in prayer)

* * *

 _"God will forgive you, probably. But I won't."_

 ** _-Michelle Menard & Paul Murphy (Isabelle I: Civilization)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _ **Reminder** : the blog for this story (under the url **she-has-her-fathers-eyes** ) is up and running! Check it out if you want to see relevant posts, sketches, writing jokes, outfits I see Ausil wearing, and just things that fit this story in general. Also, feel free to ask any questions using the blog, and don't be afraid to talk anytime!_

 _So real talk, the thing with the statue of the Virgin Mary is actually something that happened to me:_

 _So I went to a Catholic preschool (despite us not being Catholic, but it was chill), and we were rehearsing for something (I don't remember what for, lmao), but I distinctly remember being placed near the statue of Mary, and I just thought she was so fucking pretty, and she was posed with both her hands out, in a welcoming gesture, right? And so preschool Evenly thinks, oh, so I can hold the pretty lady's hand, and so I do, and my teachers get mad, and tell me to stop, but I keep wanting to touch the statue, and eventually I get in trouble and I'm put in the pews, while everyone else gets to stay up in the front. So that was my experience with religion._

 _I talked a lot to my Catholic friend when writing this chapter, so that was fun. Also, I listened to the musical version of "God Help the Outcasts" because I like that version much better than the Disney Movie version (and I listened to Moana, which is great)._

 _This was actually a relatively short chapter for all that happened? But a lot is packed into it. And the future arc is next. Whoopied-fucking-do. So yeah, kind of cliff hanger, have fun with that!_

 **Review Response:**

 **ren7720:** They will definitely meet people? But not really anyone really important, haha. Thanks for the review!

 **BlackSky:** Haha, glad to see you happy! And Bruh. The more you annoy me, the least likely I am to tell you. Bruh. But glad you like the chapter! I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm making the ship stronger, haha. Hhah. Ha. And yep, Ausil just does what she wants. Glad you love her! Thanks for the review, as always!

 **Guest:** You sure you still want to be leaning that way after this? Lmao. And I do it for shits and giggles. Lmao. Thanks for the review!


	27. Lesson 27: To Rekindle

**Lesson 27: Her Mother Taught Her to Rekindle**

* * *

 _"She saw this now, and it was like looking ahead to the very sad ending of a novel, then quickly shutting the book, as if that could keep it from happening."_

 ** _-Meg Wolitzer_**

* * *

Ausiliatrice had never felt she had a defined path in life, which suited her more. She would like to think this. She had never been sure where she was going, or where she wanted to go. Which fit her, a trait she received from her mother, she was sure, but at times like this? When memories of a future, of a woman who was her ten years from now, but was not the woman she was now,

(because in a way, it was a form of instructions, of directions, of telling her what to do, of dictating her life, and giving her relationships and confusion she never asked for, with the merging of who she was now, and who she would have been then)

When these memories hit her, and as she processed them,

(and reacted and slapped him, and that was her _holding back_ and leaving before she truly expressed how she felt in that one moment of revelation, betrayal hitting her so harshly in that instant, _that was her holding back_ ),

And she needed a path, somewhere to go where she could process this safely.

And ironically enough, this place, this path, this _person_ who she strove to seek comfort in came from the memories that were the cause of so much confusion and pain.

At this moment, she may be running away, but at least she knew where she was going, even as these memories were playing through her head in detail.

* * *

His eyes, they were barely open. He felt himself bleeding out, his body still tingling, painfully so from Gamma's violate flames. Yamamoto's body quivered, and his eyes barely shifted, squinting and barely making the outline of a new figure enter the playing field. He heard a voice, distinctly familiar, and somehow, his body registered relief.

The battle began, but Yamamoto was too in pain to fully comprehend this. Still squinting and breathing heavily in pain, in pain, he did however comprehend soft footsteps approaching him. Hazily, he saw heels before him, and then gently, but callous hands moved his face upwards.

In his dazed state, he would have thought to recognize the woman if not for the scar covering the lower right side of her face. Her lips barely hinted upwards.

"We'll let the kids play for now," she told him, her voice low, and melodic, serenading through different accents with each sound, as if stepping to a waltz, "but you need to heal." He blinked. And a lioness, shining bright and nearly golden stood in the place of the woman.

He met it's golden, intense eyes, and the lioness dipped its head.

The last thing he felt was warmth and a tongue, gently licking his face.

* * *

"Ausiliatrice…" The woman stood her full height and turned her head, meeting both Lal Mirch's and the young boy's gaze. Lal Mirch's eyes barely narrowed, almost in distrust. "Or," she asked with further caution, "do you prefer Hades?"

And the darker skin woman nearly gave a polite, vacant smile in response, before her abyssal eyes went to the man that approached them.

"Have fun?" She asked Hibari Kyoya, who nearly huffed in response.

"Fodder," he responded simply. Tsunayoshi Sawada continued to stare at Ausiliatrice in disbelief.

"You're Ausiliatrice from the future!" He managed to sputter out, stepping forward, "Why are yo–" but his words fell flat as she turned fully, revealing the scar on her face. She ignored this blatant shock, however, and approached Hibari, moving aside to reveal both Yamamoto and Gokudera; Tsunayoshi, however, was stunned to see a lioness with them as well, laying with her paws on Gokudera's chest and licking his face. The beast paused, feeling his gaze and meeting it evenly. And in that moment Tsunayoshi felt warmth, and despite this being such a dangerous, graceful predator that could easily rip his friend's throat from meager flesh;

He felt _safe_.

"Tetsuya had already taken the rings and is throwing them off our trail," she said smoothly, causing Tsunayoshi to return to reality, "and although Atalanta has mostly healed them, we still need to head back."

Hibari Kyoya hummed in acknowledgment.

"Even if they are mostly healed," Lal Mirch warned, watching as the lioness rose, it's head angling to bump and rub against the outstretched hand of her owner affectionately, "it will still be difficult to move across such a long distance–"

"We'll use our entrance then," Kyoya said simply, not even bothering to motion for them to follow as he stepped forward.

Tsunayoshi, helping to carry a still unconscious Gokudera along with Mal Mirch, studied Ausiliatrice as she walked with them, Yamamoto in her arms. The scar that now marred her face seemed to be the only difference, physically, between this Ausiliatrice and the one he was somewhat familiar with. Her eyes went to his, catching and holding his own captive. A moment, of pure connection between the two.

A dry, almost humorless smile.

"Youth suits you, Tsunayoshi."

And she walked through the wall, her and Yamamoto's shape being easily enveloped. The lioness looked back as well, meeting Tsunayoshi's gaze, and enrapturing his eyes in the exact same way,

as if conveying the same message.

* * *

To see her so freshly after their last conversation, to see her and know it wasn't her, but a _different, older_ version of her, to see her and know that he was on new footing, unfamiliar and dangerous territory with his daughter once again,

To see her and see such a painful _mar_ on her face:

"Who did it?" he asked her boldly, letting the others pass and leave them to their conversation (having passed an unconscious Yamamoto off to a very disgruntled Hibari). She looked down at him, face neutral and still _marred_ , hurt, betrayed; but this was just a reminder of a past she had already put behind her.

(But forgiveness? Can you imagine?)

"If you wonder about our relationship in the future," she said, putting a placid hand on her box weapon, who had rubbed its head affectionately against the woman's leg, it too, fixing Reborn with a curious, golden stare, "it gets better," she admitted with a light roll her her shoulders, her lips barely moving upwards; a hint at amusement (but there was pain there too, wasn't there?). She moved forward once again, surpassing her father, the magnificent, golden beast, shimmering with flames she had inherited from _him_ right at her side, and added, almost callously added:

(this, this, she inherited from _her_ )

"Eventually."

* * *

"Ausiliatrice!" And instead of Bianchi going to Reborn like they expected, she immediately outstretched her arms, hesitating and going forward only after receiving a nod form the older; and Bianchi embraced Ausiliatrice warmly, moving to kiss both sides of her face, not an ounce of hesitation when putting her smooth lips against the rough texture of her scar.

"It's been long," Ausiliatrice noted as Bianchi leaned away, pausing and looking at the darker skin woman warmly before releasing her.

"Too long," Bianchi replied, a hint at a frown threatening to overtake her smile. Reborn watched this with keen eyes, noticing every small movement shared between the two.

Close, he defined, and then wondered what that meant for their relationship? But these thoughts were forced to back of his mind, as Bianchi at last noticed him, and was overtaken with further joy, encompassing him in her arms with brilliant affection,

Leaving Ausiliatrice to nearly escort her old student out of the room before he could take his irritations out on poor Tsunayoshi, who was in an unfortunate proximity to Hibari as he became further irritated by the number of people entering the room.

"They're not pets you know," He huffed, eyes smoothly arcing to the lioness silently padding beside his teacher as they made their way from the chaos, and into his far more peaceful holdings.

"Atalanta doesn't like to be confined," Ausiliatrice answered simply, scratching the lioness's head affectionately as they entered the doorway, now surrounded by delicate, Japanese decorations. A bare grumble, a clear sign of his disapproval.

"You still don't like the name," she accused lightly as they entered a room.

"It's redundant."

"I'm not Atalanta anymore," she reminded him. And at this, he barely scrunched his nose.

"I know," he said, moving to the sole desk in the room, "I still disagree." And they both knew in that moment, the conversation had switched to a much broader topic. Atalanta's tail flicked, feeling the tension in the air.

"When Olympus fell, there was no hope for it to rise," she said with a callous shrug, "and so we decided to rule the underworld from below. If you disagree with that, it's no concern of mine."

"That's not what I disagree with and you know it," he snapped at her, roughly sliding, nearly throwing the file he had fished out of the desk, to her.

"You're the same as me, Kyoya," she reminded him, "and yet you still lead the Foundation."

"That's different," he called out, and was pleased when she didn't correct him. "You're not happy."

This earned a rigid scoff.

"This is _war_ ," she told him coldly, "Happiness is scarce at times like this, and only thrives on the winning side."

 _And clearly_ , was what went unsaid, _that isn't us._

"You're leaving soon, aren't you?" He accused her once more.

"As soon as Hecate and Argus arrive," she admitted, reviewing the files and then closing it, "Yes. I am."

"And until then?" He asked, almost curiously.

"I'll do what I always do," she said, almost sadly, both of them knowing without further explanation.

(She was the one who waits)

(Always)

* * *

Lal Mirch was distrustful of her, and had right to be. Although the blatant glaring was distasteful, Ausiliatrice gave her enough credit, seeing that she put this to the side when explaining how she was not longer training Tsunayoshi anymore, and left it where is was throughout the rest of the conversation.

"Ah, Ausiliatrice isn't training anyone?" Yamamoto said, looking over at the woman in question. She barely huffed and raised her chin.

"There is no one here yet that reaches my standards." At which a depressed, almost cold wash went through the three boys.

 _So cold,_ they thought in unison. Lal Mirch only picked this aggression and distrust back up when the battle between Kyoya and Tsuna had begun.

"So what's the leader of a group of mercenaries doing here, huh? You getting paid or something?" She sniffed, folding her arms and keeping keen eyes trained on the fight.

"You seem to have a negative opinion of Olympus, Lal," Ausiliatrice said, the causal use of the other's name causing another park of irritation.

"You're a group who works for the person who flaunts the biggest pay check," she nearly spat, "I don't see how that can be put in a positive light, in a time like this. How do we know we can trust you, huh? How can we trust your _entire_ organization?"

"First of all, the old Olympus fell long ago," Ausiliatrice corrected immediately, "and it's no longer the organization it used to be. I stepped forward out of need and only that, and reformed to fit this new battle. I'm on your side," she said firmly, eyes going to Reborn, almost hesitantly, "Know that. And knowing that, know that Olympus follows me now. Any outliers have been _firmly_ corrected."

"So it's more of a family now?" Lal Mirch asked, cautiously.

And Ausiliatrice chose not to answer.

* * *

"Ah," Bianchi said, entering the bathing room, and stalling at the door, "I apologize; I should have knocked."

"It's fine," Ausiliatrice said, her bare back facing the other woman, showcasing numerous marks and scars, but all faded in comparison to the one on her face, now displayed with the turn of her head, looking at Bianchi, "I'm about to leave anyways."

"Why don't you stay and relax?" Bianchi asked kindly, sliding into the warm water herself, "you travel around so much, I'd think it would be nice for you to stay in place for a while."

"You know I can't allow myself to stay in place for too long," Ausiliatrice said, but despite her words, allowed her body to lean and relax, putting her arms up and stretching them out on the sides of the bath.

"I know I need a break," Bianchi breathed out, almost a sigh as she mimicked Ausiliatrice's position.

"Your brother?"

Bianchi hummed in response.

"He's just so stubborn," she said with a bare scrunch of her face.

"So are you."

"You are too," she shot back, sending a small splash her way. Ausiliatrice blinked, frowning at the childish movement as she lifted her hand to wipe to droplets way from her eyes. "It must he hereditary, huh?" Bianchi asked almost sadly. Ausiliatrice thought, giving a small beat of silence.

"I'll talk to him," she said as a statement, far from an offer. Bianchi blinked, looking over at the older woman as she rose, stepping out of the bath.

"You? You don't have to, you know."

"You could never understand him, right?" And Bianchi frowned, seeing her point. "Let me," Ausiliatrice said, wrapping a towel around herself, "talk to him." A small, almost pitying smile:

"Bastard to bastard."

* * *

"Do you know anything about my past, Gokudera Hayato?'

He looked up, shocked to see Ausiliatrice walking towards him, hair still up in a bun, and skin still warm and glowing.

"I don't know anything about you…" he said, narrowing his eyes and extremely cautious. She hummed, a sound of almost amusement, and gestured.

"Follow me," she vocalized when he did not immediately move in response to her order. And reluctantly, he did so.

She only spoke again after they had journeyed the base into unfamiliar part for him, and he could only assume they were in a kitchen on Hibari's side of the base when she spoke again, now sitting on the counter with a cup of freshly brewed tea.

"Wouldn't he _not_ want me here?" He asked, looking at the door, half expecting the prefect himself to barge in a 'bite them to death' for the intrusion.

"He also wouldn't like me using his tea supply, but I can deal with Kyoya," she said coolly. She gestured again, this time to a chair, and waited until he sat again to speak.

"My mother," she began after another sip," was from a Mafia family. Old. Prestigious. Not as old or grand as the Vongola, but their name got around. They had a standing. Horribly old-school, awfully sexist, but many families were and still are. They treated my mother like shit, and only thought of her as either a bargaining tool, or a vessel to hold the next generation. She, naturally, hated that. Rebelled, violently, against everything her family stood for. She tried to run away, a lot, and they dragged her back, kicking and screaming every time," and here, she nearly smiled, clearly seeing her mother doing this.

"They basically sold her off, eventually. Arranged a marriage that brought an alliance. My mother wasn't going to take that, naturally, and so did the one thing where she knew her family would completely disgrace her for; she got knocked up and ran away. Had a bastard child, had _me_ ," she clarified, "and kept running till the day they cornered her and burned her corpse. A hunted, cornered, animal till the end. Of course, by then, she had handed me off to someone else so I didn't slow her down. Still died in the end," and she finished so callously, with such a vacant shrug. Gokudera's hands clenched and fidgeted, almost uneasily in his seat.

"I didn't ask for your life story," he nearly sneered at her.

"And you didn't get it; that was only the beginning," she corrected him, "Although, I'm sure if I told you it, many parts would be a reflection of your own, if you throw out the personal details. Life on the streets. Scrounging for food, for money, doing jobs that you knew you didn't' want to do morally, but getting used to them, becoming numb. Being hunted. Called names, being spit at just because of who your parents decided to _fuck_ ," and he vice as harsh and nearly spit out the last word.

"You're lucky, you know," she said, growing softer, "to have found Tsunayoshi while you were so young. The rest of us weren't so forunate."

(the rest of them, the bastards, the outcasts, and momentarily, her scar, her face burned once more)

"What's the point of this?" Gokudera said, softened with the mentioned of his beloved boss but still conflicted, still confused, still angry, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because my mother's family? They're nothing to me. They're _shit_ ," she said, with almost snarl, "Because they don't deserve anything form me, they barely deserve my hate. But you? You're different. You're not me, and your family is not them. You have a sister who tries. A sister who loves you. And that's a lot fucking more than I'll ever get. My last chance at family died right after we finally started trying. Don't," she said, sliding off the counter and rose, nearly slamming her cup down in front of him, "make the same mistake as me."

And Gokudera stared after her as she left the room in graceful, controlled rage. And he looked down at the cup,

seeing a single crack, marring it.

* * *

"It's a relief," Ryohei said, smiling over at her, standing above Chrome, "to have another sun flame user!"

"It's amazing how efficient your flames are Ausiliatrice," Bianchi commented as well, folding Chrome's clothes gently, and looking over to where Atalanta laid at the girl's side, brimming with radiance and warmth, "considering, well, your other type."

"It's weird, though," Ryohei said, looking at the lioness as well, "how motherly your box weapon is. Aren't they usually a reflection of the owner?" Bianchi laughed softly while Ausiliatrice merely leaned forward to scratch underneath Atalanta's chin.

"You really don't know Ausiliatrice that well, do you?" Bianchi asked Ryohei.

"Huh?!"

"You should go report to them," Ausiliatrice stated before the two could continue the discussion, "and let them know about the message from the Varia." Bianchi's features fell at the mention of this, but Ryohei's attitude overcast her expression.

"Right!" He said, grinning and beginning to exit loudly, "I've got to catch them up to the extreme!"

"You go too," she told Bianchi, "I'll stay here with Chrome." Bianchi nearly hesitated, then nodded, exiting the room as well. Ausiliatrice looked after her, then continued Bianchi's job. She went to Chrome's bag, pausing, before shifting through it, bringing out a small tracking device.

Her eyes barely narrowed, and Atalanta's head rose from where the lioness was resting, her lip barely rising to arc in a growl, hinting predator teeth, reminding those of her danger and animosity. This was reflected in Ausiliatrice's eyes, as she held the small object daintily in her hands,

before crushing it completely with a simple twitch of her fingers.

* * *

"Why are you crying?"

"M-miss Ausiliatrice?" The young girl looked over from where she was pressed against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her own knees, striving for the comfort of another person in the folds of her own skin. Haru sniffled, wiping her nose pathetically. "I-I'm sorry, it's just Tsuna–" the girl shuddered to a halt, freezing as Ausiliatrice's hand went gently to the young girl's face, wiping a tear away.

"Don't apologize," she said, "It's okay to cry. But don't let the reason be because of any man."

And the younger girl stared up at the older woman with wide eyes, her lower lips quivering, and cried out again and she fell forward, wrapping arms around Ausiliatrice,

And Ausiliatrice welcomed the girl with a warm, sad smile, allowing this contact, knowing that the young girl needed it.

(wishing she had more of this contact, when she was young and vulnerable like this)

(for the little time her childhood allowed her to be)

* * *

"Chrome!" Abyssal eyes barely spared Tsunayoshi a glance before returning to the problem at hand: Chrome lay on her cot, breathing heavily and coughing up blood. Bianchi stood behind Ausiliatrice, hands clasped and held against her lips. Atalanta, the lioness laying against beside Chrome on the bed, held the same eerily calm demeanor as her mistress, eye closed and head resting, radiating warm flames that seemed to useless in face of this situation.

Ausiliatrice's own hand was holding one of Chrome's, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of the girl's hand.

"There's nothing my flames can do to help this, Tsunayoshi," Ausiliatrice told him almost solemnly, "I can perhaps help ease the pain, but she has to create new organs herself."

"Chrome, don't die, we need you!" Tsunayoshi cried out, grabbing Chrome other hand. Reborn stood in the doorway, nearly grimacing. Ausiliatrice watched this interaction, reviewing Chrome's hazy response to her boss.

"Tsunayoshi," she called, and he turned to her, eyes wide and nearly brimming with tears, "leave."

"B-but, she's–"

"Leave." It was firmer this time, much more of a direct command. And once the room was cleared, even going as far to clear out Bianchi and her father, Ausiliatrice spoke to the girl:

"Chrome," she said softly, "Recall your connection with him, recall how you called strength from that and him."

"Mukuro-sama…" Chrome garbled out, closing her eye tightly and doing just as the woman instructed her to.

"Now caste it aside." And at this, Chrome's eye shot open and widened, almost in distress.

"Severe this connection completely," Ausiliatrice continued, "because do you know what that connection is? It's a crutch. It's a _weakness_. It's taking strength from you and giving it to him. Take hold of your own strength and make it just that," she instructed the girl, in a cold, but needed demeanor. Ausiliatrice moved Chrome's hand, the one she had been holding, the one which held the Vongola ring, and placed it other the girl's chest.

"Use the ring, but know that the ring itself doesn't give you power. All this ring is, is high quality metal and stone; your flame, your _will_ calls forth the properties that make it desirable, that make it _special_. Without that will, it is nothing, you are _nothing_. You need to use the ring to help yourself. You cannot continue to rely on Mukuro, Chrome," she told her, "He's let many die before, "and this was said with resentment, with a memory, "and he certainly can't help you every time your life is in danger because of him. Create your own organs. Shape your own life source, and sever your reliance on him."

And Chrome, although it pained her, pushed her little remaining will into the ring on her hand,

and a soft indigo shone through.

Ausiliatrice nodded in bare approval, before rising.

"In this state, there is nothing I can do for you know until you rely on your own strength," she said coldly as she stood, " _not_ his."

And she left without turning back. Atalanta, the great lioness, stood as well, gracefully dropping from the bed. She paused, and turned her grand muscles, rippling under golden fur as she swung her head back, looking at Chrome once more,

almost with sadness, with hesitation to leave such a young, vulnerable, _weak_ , child.

But she too, turned and followed her mistress,

taking the warmth of the sun with her.

* * *

Steel eyes narrowed, meeting a pair of heterochromiative ones. The small woman before him smiled, blinking, and when doing so, switched her eye colors. She smirked, seeing his irritation, and swung her legs, her feet far from reaching the ground while she sat on the desk.

From another room, the beautiful sound of a call to prayer echoed and wafted through the hallway and into the room where they stood, tensely, despite the beauty and peace that echoed from the sound.

"Hecate, stop teasing him," Ausiliatrice said as she walked into the room, dispersing the tension if only slightly

"I take it that you're leaving now, with them," Kyoya stated stiffly, not even bothering to vocalize his irritation at the intrusion, knowing that it would be futile to complain.

"Once Argus finishes Prayer," Ausiliatrice said, "Yes." His eyes narrowed. "I know you don't want me to go–"

"Obviously," he stated sourly, eyes on the scar on her face, and making no move to soften with gaze, "I don't like you being around _him_."

"I've put it behind me," she said, completely bland and neutral, "What's in the past remains there."

"But it still leaves a fucking mark," he spat.

The call to prayer stopped suddenly. Leaving them in silence.

"We all have scars, Kyoya," she said, motioning for Hecate to follow as she walked out of the room, Argus joining her in the hallway as the three women moved to leave the base.

And he found himself silent as he watched them go, finding truth of her statement, and yet?

Not all of the scars speak of such betrayal.

(Forgiveness? Can you Imagine?)

* * *

Ausiliatrice stood at the door, her hand on her unmarred face, feeling and still checking (and somewhere, on her skin it tingled and burned, outliving memories that were still playing the back of her head). She hesitated before knocking on the door, standing in front of the home she had traveled too, and hoped that who she was looking for would even be here.

A pause, after the knock, and movement beyond the door.

A woman opened it, with soft, dark brown eyes, and a child in her arms, looking curiously up at Ausiliatrice.

For a moment, seeing the woman's expression, Ausiliatrice feared that she did not recognize who Ausiliatrice was. But the Chinese woman smiled, almost a grin and opened the door, wider and far more welcoming.

"It's good to see such an old friend," Meilin said, but then corrected herself, "Ah, but I suppose we are new to each other in this timeline, no?"

And the child gurgled happily as well.

* * *

 _"Do you remember the way the girls would call out 'love you!' conveniently leaving out the 'I' as if they didn't want to commit to their own declarations._

 _I agree that the 'I' is a pretty heavy concept."_

 ** _-David Berman_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Bonus points to the people who pick up on the obvious Hamilton reference._

 _So yeah, the first and the last scenes are in the present, and the rest are in the future for clarification._

 _This chapter took a little bit of my soul, mostly because it's finals and also I hate the future arc with all my being. Like, I just hate the future arc in general, no matter what. I just have such a negative connotation with it, and it's only really because it's long? Like I don't mind the plot, and I love most the characters introduced, but like writing it? Gah, writing it. I think it's mostly because I love the other arcs so much more. Gah._

 _ **I posted a youtube playlist for Ausil!** It's on the blog with the url **she-has-her-fathers-eyes** if you want to check the playlist out, or just check the blog out. _

_**Note:** I apologize if I didn't respond to your review last chapter, because the email I had linked to this site suddenly fucked up on me, and so I had to switch. I review through my emails, and that's how I keep tally of who I have and haven't responded, so again, super sorry if you didn't get a response._

 **Review Response:**

 **Innieminnie:** Yeah, Xanxus definitely is looking for a sexual relationship as well, something that does not correspond with Ausil/ something she does not want. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Haha, glad you liked If He Had Lived! Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Lmao, so many questions. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Yep! I'm so glad so many of you immediately got it, haha! And yeah, I don't think I would appreciate having my face burned either. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest:** Lmao, yep you should have expected this. By this point, usually if things are going good, you should expect something to fuck up in Ausil's life, at least in this point in the story (I'm not a complete monster, she does get a happy ending, I'll tell you that much). And I had so fun with parallels and imagery last chapter. Lmao, glad you enjoyed the cliff hanger and thanks for the review!

 **BlackSky:** Ha. Glad that everyone enjoyed the cliff hanger, lmao. And nah, she wasn't dismissing his claim completely, she was just going to correct him and be more specific ;) Thanks for the review!

 **Hana27Reborn:** Surprising indeed, well for you guys. Since I, you know, knen what happened. Lmao. Good guess though, about it being about either Tsuna or Yuni


	28. Lesson 28: To Kindle

**Lesson 28: Her Mother Taught Her to Kindle**

* * *

 _"i'm sorry for the love that_

 _i knew how to give you, but_

 _kept to myself, anyway._

 _i'm sorry that my hands were_

 _so hungry,_

 _that they left you_

 _so starving._

 _i'm sorry i kissed so hard;_

 _sorry for crushing your mouth_

 _to fine powder and feeding it_

 _through the hips of an hourglass._

 _the fear runs deeper than the well,_

 _these days._

 _we water the livestock with it."_

* * *

Xanxus sat in his office, surrounded by shattered glass. Angry. Frustrated. To not understand your own actions, but know exactly why you did them in the first place? It led to a rage that even he couldn't' express.

He understood, it feeling natural. Like it was something that could happen, that _should_ happen, so why not in that moment, in that confrontation?

But there was a lack, severely, of understanding. Of understanding her and what she wanted and didn't. In that moment, he thought that if he could just _force_ her to feel what he felt, if he used force and strength like he always did, (what he always went to, what always worked for him? But no, it didn't always work for him, and these scars of his proved it, and to find in the future he burdened her with such a reminder as well?), then perhaps it would work out.

But when has either of their lives been like a fucking fairy tale?

He was confused and angry, and knew only one emotion for sure;

Shame.

Different than what he has felt before.

And Xanxus did not know how to express this, but with a bout of rage,

And the shattering a more glass.

(Forgiveness? Can you imagine?)

(He certainly couldn't)

* * *

Hecate's eyes nearly shimmered, looking over to the dark-skinned woman that led them. Almost dancing, she pivoted, and keeping the same pace easily, and began walking backwards as she spoke to Ausiliatrice, her hands signing smoothly. Argus's eyes moved from the mute woman's rapidly moving hands to gauge Ausiliatrice's answer, watching intensely, as if with many eyes.

"Would you forgive the man who took your voice?" Ausiliatrice countered smoothly. Hecate's curious expression nearly turned to rage, darkening as she turned abruptly. Shadows around her writhed and quivered, and the other women stayed back as the small illusionist rigidly input a code to open a door, leading to far more welcoming, less metallic hallways than the one they had been traversing before.

They encountered others, soon enough. A large, ridiculous frog hat bobbed, as the teenager that it adorned followed a child, looking to be ten or so, hopping to the colorful shapes he was creating for her. The girl looked up, slanted eyes widening as she reviewed those approaching. She grinned, widely, and barreled forward. Ausiliatrice caught her easily and lifted her with a small smile.

"Auntie!" she said happily in rapid Mandarin, grinning as the woman swung her around, and gently placed the girl down, "Are you here to visit and stay for while? Can I see Atalanta?"

"Ah," Fran said, reviewing them with black expressions, "Does this mean I can dump babysitting duties on- ah," he said, nearly falling back as Hecate continued to walk forward, reaching up to yank the collar of his jacket, forcing him to walk backwards as she continued forward. She yanked him again, turning him this time and prodding him forward with her umbrella, signing back her intentions of sparring with the younger illusionist.

"Ah, you seemed pissed, Tinker Be- Ow," Fran whined again, looking back as she once again poked him, "Oi, isn't the tip of your umbrella covered in poison?"

Ausiliatrice ignored the look of judgement that came from Argus, immediately after the two illusionists rounded the corner.

"He'll be fine," she told her, before turning her attention again to the child. "Suyin," she greeted, smiling lightly again and bending so that she was eye level, "It's nice to see you again."

"I want Atalanta!" She girl chanted again, leaning to the side and looking to Ausiliatrice's pocket.

"Patience," Ausiliatrice chided, lifting a hand to ruffle the girl's hair, "I'll let you play with Atalanta. But first, I want to talk to your mother."

* * *

Squalo's words fell flat, watching as the large lion, once laying leisurely behind his boss's chair, lifted its head, immediately intent and alert. Its tail flicked in apprehension, and it's eyes barely narrowed. It's owner's own red eyes widened slightly, noticing this, almost as if smelling the same familiar scent as his box weapon.

"So She's here, huh?" Squalo guessed, clicking his tongue and dropping the file her had been reviewing on Xanxus's desk. He turned, his hair swirling slightly as he did so, and exited. "I'll go see her," he said gruffly, nearly frowning before turning back to his boss with a sneer:

"No way in hell she'd want to see you, right?"

Xanxus's eyes barely narrowed in warning. Squalo huffed again, slamming the door behind him.

Best growled lowly, his lip nearly turned upwards to a grimace.

* * *

"Your boyfriend's here too," Suyin told Ausiliatrice happily, skipping beside Atalanta, the lioness watching the girl with shimmering, amused eyes. Ausiliatrice blinked slowly, taking in the girl's words with slight confusion, and looking to make sense of them before reacting. Argus had fractured from them earlier, leaving just Ausiliatrice and her Godchild, along with the lioness that accompanied them.

"You mean Dino," she corrected, "He's an acquaintance."

"Nah," she dismissed, causing Ausiliatrice's expression to deadpan, "He looks at you in _that_ way, you know? And Mama says that when people look at each other like _that_ , they're dating!"

"… Did she say that exactly, Suyin?" The girl shrugged.

"Pretty much. Ah, here!" She stopped, pointing to a door. She went forward, opening it and nearly running it. "Mama! Auntie is here!"

From the couch, a dark head of hair turned, and a Chinese woman, a few years older than Ausiliatrice herself, but looking much older due to grief (which she quickly wiped from her face for her daughter), turned to face the door.

"Ausiliatrice!" She said with a smile, rising and immediately going to throw her arms around the other woman. She winced however, and pulled away, giving an apologetic smile. "Ah, I apologize. I should have asked, shouldn't I?"

"It's fine, Meilin," Ausiliatrice said with a small shake of her head, and even embraced the woman again. "It's been a while."

"It has, hasn't it?" And Ausiliatrice looked to the other occupant of the room, and was met with a lopsided, nearly forced grin.

"Hey," Dino said, walking forward and holding his arms in question. She nodded, and allowed him an embrace, put pushed away after she had elicited enough contact. "Seriously," Dino said, allowed her to retreat easily and softly, "it's been too long. I get worried, you know, with you travelling so much?"

"I'm fine," she said, but there was a snap, hostility in her voice. And he retreated, picking up on this easily, and yet a soft, apologetic, knowing smile remained on his face. Ausiliatrice's fingers moved uncertainly before her fist clenched.

"It is war," Meilin agreed, and at her voice, Ausiliatrice's hands released.

"If anyone can travel safely in a time like this," Ausiliatrice said, looking down to see Suyin leaning into her mother's side, and Ausiliatrice poked her nose gently, causing the girl to smile, "it's me."

"Still, Ausil–" But Dino held his hands up in defense and dropped the topic at Ausiliatrice's harsh look, instead backing up and going to the door. "I'll let everyone know you're here. Argus and Hecate too, right?" Ausiliatrice nodded once, stiffly, looking away from Dino. A mere wince, and he masked it with a smile, looking to Suyin:

"Want to come see the others?" He asked, offering a hand. The girl smiled, and then looked to Atalanta, still at the girl's side. Suyin turned to Ausiliatrice, with pleading eyes.

"Can Atalanta come with me, Auntie?" Ausiliatrice frowned, and Atalanta reacted to her mistress's discomfort by coming to her side, and allowing Ausiliatrice's hand to slide through golden fur. Luckily, another answered in Ausiliatrice place, saving her grace of explaining such a vulnerable feeling and admitting this reliance (this comfort, _fear_ ).

"Atalanta must be tired, my princess," Meilin chided, moving to her pocket and opening her own box weapon instead, "Take Huan instead," she advised as a red panda, brilliant with storm flames shot from the box, and immediately ran playful around Suyin's feet, chattering. The girl giggled in response, and caught the red panda, lifting it lovingly into her arms.

"Maybe Bel will let me play with Mink again!" The girl told Dino as they left, "Or with his knives!" Dino paled at this, his expression then covered by the closing door.

"Are you okay? Being here?" Meilin asked with a serious expression as soon as the two left.

"I'm fine," Ausiliatrice said, perhaps a little too quickly, "and although I appreciate the concern, I could do without the insistence." Meilin frowned, her eyes going to Ausiliatrice's hand, still shifting through Atalanta's fur, perhaps unconsciously. She sighed. And Ausiliatrice took this a sign for her to speak again.

"How are you, both of you?" she asked, her hand stalling, lingering, then going to Meilin's hand, holding it gently. Meilin sighed again, the movement corresponding with their bodies gently falling to the couch.

"You know. You lost yours as well. Suyin is young, and often forgets. But remembers again," Meilin admitted, looking to Atalanta at well, and the lioness reacting; comforting the other woman and switching sides. "She cries sometimes when she remembers, well, everything. When she remembers that he died, when she remembers that we're in war. But she's a good child. And the others help, keeping her happy. Dino especially, he's good with children…." And she trailed off. And sighed again. Atalanta put her head in Meilin's lap. Ausiliatrice shifted.

"He's back. My father," she said with efficacy, "He came back with the children from their timeline." Meilin looked up suddenly.

"Does that mean–"

"No," Ausiliatrice was quick to kill this hope out of kindness, "Fon isn't coming back, Meilin. Only Reborn." And at this, the Chinese woman's shoulder slumped, tired. A breath.

"A second chance," she breathed out, looking up at Ausiliatrice with a pitying smile (and Ausiliatrice's fist clenched once more), "You guys were only just really talking, right? As father and daughter?"

"We'll never be as close as you were with Fon, with your father," Ausiliatrice warned, almost coldly, and was further annoyed, seeing that Meilin's smile remained.

"I know."

And that moment, peaceful and serene and breakable,

was shattered by Squalo entering.

* * *

"You sure you want to do this, huh?" Squalo nearly spat, his eyes going from Atalanta to Ausiliatrice as they walked through the hallways.

"I have to give a report, don't I?" His eyes barely narrowed.

"When the fuck have you cared about procedural shit like that?" Her eyes sliced to him, and then back. "You just trying to piss him off?" And he swore again, taking her lack of answer for what it was.

"You know I'm the one who has to deal with this shit afterwards, right?" He hissed, and grew angry when she rolled her eyes. Atalanta barely growled, and he quieted, being reminded, his eyes falling again on her scar.

"You think you're gonna get an apology."

"I don't fucking need one," she responded coldly. "What's done is done, and what he did is behind us."

(But not forgiven, not forgiven, never)

Squalo understood this in a way, but never could he fully grasp this situation, this bond was shakily made and then shattered. And burned, and now was presented as a scar on her face.

In a way, Squalo thought, it was punishment for him to look at it,

And she knew it.

This was clear as she walked into Xanxus's office without even knocking and the bare flinch before anger shone in Xanxus's eyes.

She was professional, coldly so, and even dismissed Squalo from the room (offended, and hotly so when he seemed to think that he would stay, and what? Fucking proctor them? She was angry, enraged with this constant treatment of fragility she was receiving from those around her, and now, facing him, only cold rage was inside her).

Bester, laying behind Xanxus's chair, stood immediately upon seeing Atalanta, and even stepped forward,

But Atalanta nearly roared, quieted to a growl and a sneering of teeth, causing hesitation in the lion's steps, before he settled, simply sitting upright and holding his head stiffly up, as if showcasing, as if making a point of strength, a try at elegance, a try at pride, or at least was remained of it between the two.

She began as soon as Squalo left, giving a debriefing of what the boss of the Varia would need to know,

But oh, memories of Xanxus played through her head, and Atalanta nearly growled and flicked her tail at every reminder.

 _First mistake: he got close and she allowed him. A conversation started with heat and ended with a different kind, but she let him get close to her, she trusted him with that,_

 _And when he grabbed her face and pushed her against the wall,_

 _(she was back on the Savanna, oh God, she was sixteen again and felt her skin searing with unwanted touch, uncomfortable, uncomfortable)_

 _And she reacted, moments after he had smashed his lips against her, her mouth only open out of surprise_

 _(although she should have expected it, her second mistake, for ignoring how he looked at her, ignoring how much they both had drank that night, ignoring these signs and trusting him not to act upon this desire she knew he felt for her that had only increased over the years where she had allowed him to grow closer, to grow comfortable, to fester and grow, but ignored it)_

 _And she reacted violently, and responded just as, because that was who they were, that was what made them what they were_

 _(and he had assumed, he had longed for someone like her (like him, a predator, the one who showed him what it meant to a predator, who gave him the definition in the first place), and had assumed, and thought wrong, and acted on instinct, and that too failed him)_

 _And soon, her skin was burning once more, but physically, by his hand, that had gotten too close, and burned and burned and burned – for what else do flames of wrath do but burn and scar?_

 _And as she screamed and pushed herself away from him, he looked at his own hand while the flames embered, not having meant for them to ignite in the first place_

 _(but he was angry, wasn't he? Rageful? Entitled to this woman who he had been watching and growing close to for years, and he thought, he thought, he assumed and thought)_

 _And Ausiliatrice, through her hands covering her face, through her pained and stinging eyes, saw Xanxus for what he was in that moment; an entitled brat, who used force to receive what he thought was his, and had no patience for understanding what did not come to him easily, who was still unversed in many ways, but refused to grow without a large factor forcing him to._

 _(Would this be enough, or would be need a constant fucking reminder?)_

 _And this was her third and final mistake, before she left_

 _(running away, just as her mother taught her)_

"… and we'll remain to aid with the raid," she finished, rising immediately to leave without even the courtesy of a formal ending (although, he thought to himself gruffly, he considered that he didn't deserve that, did he?). Atalanta sent one last look (a warning?) to Bester before rising with her owner as well, tail flicking elegantly as she exited. Xanxus watched, as they left once again.

But before she could fully slip from his grasp again? He hesitated. And spoke:

"I'm sorry."

It was gruff, and said with eyes averted. She barely turned her head back, and waited. Their eyes met, and she barely inclined her head. Atalanta flicked her tail, and growled once more, softly.

"I know."

(and she heard the glass shatter against it, after closing the door)

* * *

"I thought I'd find you here."

Ausiliatrice looked up from reloading her gun, gave a polite nod to Dino, and waited until he too put on headphones before she turned her gun back to the range. He wait, patiently, watching until she ran out of bullets again. She went to reload.

"We're leaving for Japan today," he told her as her hand skillfully handled the bullets.

"Meilin and Suyin?" She asked.

"Staying here," she answered. "They'll listen for any messages just in case any come in during the battle. Romario and I are going, though." And she hummed, and lifted the headphones once more, but jerked, her eyes whipping to Dino, who retracted his hand immediately from her wrist.

A moment. And she took off her headphones.

"Ausiliatrice," he said, looking down, then determined but softly looking her in the eyes, "Look, I know it's been hard for you–"

"Don't," she snapped, harsh.

"Don't?" He repeated, confused. "Don't what?"

"Don't fucking pity me," She snapped, then went to shoot again, only for Dino to grab her wrist again,

Only this time, he didn't let go.

"I'm not pitying you, Ausil," he said, almost sadly, almost pleading, "and even if I was, don't you deserve it? For what happened," and she nearly flinched, seeing his eyes go to her scar, "for what you've lost," and she thought to her father, to Shamal, and briefly to Mateus, to her mother, to Mateus again and she felt more guilt, "you've been through shit, can you at least admit that?" He said, his grip turning far more gentle, and hesitantly, she allowed him that.

(Was this, she thought in brief panic, a mistake as well?)

He took the gun from her hand and set it gently to side, taking her other hand and bringing them together so his could embrace them both.

"Please, just allow yourself… allow someone to help you, Ausiliatrice. I know you don't like this, leading Olympus," he said, and she kept her eyes downcast, allowing herself to numb, "and I know you only stepped up because one else did and you saw opportunity to help in this war. Look, I know this stuff about you, but I don't know everything, and after all these years…." And here, she wanted to pull away, but only stopped when she realized that his grip was loose enough to let her do just that.

"Please," he asked again, "why don't you let someone comfort you?"

Oh, but the air they shared between them? It translated what he really want to say.

She hesitated, and then lifted one of his hands to press against her cheek, and watched his reaction as the skin of his hand met her scar.

She recalled all these years, all the constant attempts where he had reached out to her. She recalled patience, and valued this in him. She recalled the comparisons she had made, and she recalled when she had stopped making them. She appreciated this, truly, but wasn't that why she pulled away?

(It was the martyrs, the angels that were far too pure for her dark eyes to look at)

"I'm sorry," She said, her eyes obscured in shadow, her head downcast and she held his hand against her cheek. She moved her head, forward and he felt grace in that moment, and was still as her lips pressed briefly against the side of his face, brushing in hesitation before parting completely; her body pushing and then walking away from him as well.

"But I can't do this to you."

* * *

"Where the fuck did that illusionists go?" Squalo asked, looking around, seeing a blank spot where Hecate once stood.

"I'm right here, Ca–" and Fran stepped back, smoothly avoiding Squalo's blade.

"Not you!" He snapped, then pointed his sword at Ausiliatrice. "The small one! Where the fuck did she run off to?"

Ausiliatrice blinked. Yawned. And she shrugged.

"She does that." A single twitch from Squalo.

"Vooi!" He said, waving his sword in frustration, "Keep control of your men, you bitch! What kind of fucking leader are you?!"

"Whatever," Ausiliatrice dismissed, causing further irritation. She reached into her pocket, procuring her box and feeding it flames. Atalanta sprung forth, glittering and beautiful. "Let's just go," Ausiliatrice said, jumping down from the balcony, both Atalanta and Argus following faithful.

"The fuck! Come back here!" Squalo called, leaning off the balcony and yelling after them. Bel snickered clearly amused.

"Makes it look like you're not really in charge, huh, Captain?" Fran drawled, sending Bel into intervals of louder laughs.

"Shut up, fucking pieces of shit!" Squalo roared turning back and motioning roughly, "Just fucking go! Take whatever minions you want with you!"

Lussuria tutted, watching them disperse before returning to his post in the castle.

"We're really such a chaotic family~"

* * *

"Look, this entrance is most likely where the Funeral Wreath will come from," Squalo explained as they jumped through the forest, hacking down foot soldiers as they went, "so I want you with me and alert if that happens. We also need to be ready to haul ass if those bastards come from somewhere else, you hear? Hey, are you even fucking lis–"

He turned, blinking, and seeing two blank spots behind him where Ausiliatrice and Argus used to be. A twitch. And he sliced the man who dared tried to attack him from behind, seething and then shouting in rage:

"VOOOIII! YOU CAN'T JUST FUCKING RUN OFF ON YOUR OWN, YOU BITCH!"

* * *

Ausiliatrice sneezed, and scrunched her face, annoyed, clearly as she wiped her nose. Argus looked ahead at her boss (new boss, she corrected, but it had been a while, hadn't it?), as they followed the shadow, easily and efficiently pouncing from tree to tree, used and fit for terrain such as this. Atalanta was no longer by their side.

"Angry?" She guessed. And Ausiliatrice huffed in response.

"Fuck yeah," She sneered, eyes narrowing, "If we don't find this fucker soon, this fodder won't be enough."

Argus remained quiet after this statement, almost marveling, recalled how she hadn't seen Ausiliatrice this angry in quite some time (since the doctor, she recalled, died, since her father passed). But they slowed, the shadow quelling and retreating to the outskirts of the small clearing where two figures halted.

Rasiel grinned, staring down cheekily at the two women.

"What's this? Coming to greet the king?" He snickered, crossing his legs and leaning his head on hand as he looked down at them from his throne. Olgert, his faithful butler at his side, examined the two women.

"They're not wearing Varia uniforms," he noted with suspicion.

"Hm?" Rasiel mused, looking again at them. "So?" he said, his grin growing again, "That just means they're fodder, right? Crush them, Olgert," he commanded with a lazy wave of his hand. The butler nodded, floating forward and stamping his ring into his box.

Ausiliatrice's eyes barely narrowed as a large elephant appeared, floating intimidatingly in front of them.

"Ma'am?" Argus asked, one hand going to unwrap the other, already loosening the cloth. Ausiliatrice shook her head, and made eye contact with Rasiel.

(and at this, he bristled, and beneath bangs, he flinched and averted his eyes)

He clicked his tongue, and snapped his fingers.

And the elephant moved forward only for a growl to emit from the forest, the shadowy outskirts, and a shape, large a feline-like shot from it, taking the elephant with it into it's depths. A sharp cry from the large beast, the sound of struggle, and then

Silence followed by another low growl.

"What the hell…" Rasiel murmured, sitting straighter in his thrown. Olgert allowed himself a single shiver, the sound resonating within him, before he took to studying the woman again.

"I see now… those eyes," he said before speaking louder, "You're Hades aren't you?"

"The leader of Olympus, huh?" Rasiel said, regaining his composure now met with clearer information. He grinned once more. "So that's your lioness then, just hiding in the shadows? Easy fix, if it's just a box weapon," he stated boldly, bring his own box out and releasing it. Bats flocked around him, and the self-proclaimed king lifted his chin haughtily. His grinned stretched once more.

"Die, filth."

But he blinked, shocked when their corpses didn't burst and fall to the ground.

"You think we're idiots, right? That we don't know basic fucking biology?" Ausiliatrice called after a serene, cold moment of silence.

"Dammit," Rasiel seethed and turned to his butler, "Olgert, the other two!" In which Olgert nodded, releasing two more elephants,

Only for them to be brought down too, one the same as the first, and the other? In the same moment Ausiliatrice brought her guns from beneath her hair, and with two shots to either side, eliminated the bats in the air with bouncing bullets.

"Your technique depends on the fallacy that your opponent won't already be emitting their own aura to counter your bat's flames. And before you try to correct me," she said sharply, her eyes barely narrowing just as Rasiel's mouth twitched to respond, "you would be a fucking moron to assume that your bat's flames could penetrate any aura, much less one of high caliber. If you take this as arrogance, I couldn't care less. It's pretty fucking obvious what your bats are for, knowing the attributes of storm flames, and having basic knowledge of echo location, so try not to look too much like a dumbass, being surprised that we figured it out."

Olgert stared, shocked and hopelessly, watching as his last elephant screamed out in pain, it's flesh being ripped into. Rasiel's grin nearly shook, watching before his eyes as the elephant's flames were absorbed.

Spotted skin rippled, and the animal seemed to grow. The moment the elephant stilled beneath his great paws, he stood to its full height, and looked to its next victims.

Rasiel found that he couldn't look away from the leopard's eyes.

"But your box weapons is–"

"Oh, it's the same one, I assure you," Ausiliatrice cut Olgert off, watching as the leopard left the corpse of the elephant and began pacing, it's eyes never leaving its next prey, perched in the sky (as if that would save them, as if that would spare them, they're simply canaries in an open bird cage, and he was a big fucking pussycat).

"I use my position as leader of Olympus to its full advantage, and that means being privileged to the best and most advanced box weapons. You see, my weapon is a bastard, just like me; two flames types. Atalanta is sun, and this," she said, nodded to the leopard, watching as it pounced (with such, speed, such strength), going to the trees and using the branches to easily catch Olgert's foot and tear him from the sky with a terrible, guttural scream.

"This is Meleager, my box weapon's other half," she introduced, a ghost of the smile as she watched Meleager devour the butler. Rasiel screamed, shooting further into the sky. Ausiliatrice clicked her tongue, aiming and shooting, crippling Rasiel's throne and with another shot? It was falling.

"His flame is cloud, and with each prey he consumes, he absorbs their flames," she explained stepping forward and shooting Rasiel's leg as he tried to escape with just the power of his boots. He screamed, shrieking and falling. Meleager's head rose, and he padded towards the fallen king, leaving the butler's still warm, still twitching corpse.

"It's may be a bit primitive," she said with a callous shrug and cold (abyssal, abyssal) eyes, watching as Meleager slowly and painstakingly circled Rasiel, who was whimpering pathetically, pleading and trying to bargain, "but it's effective."

"Please," Rasiel said, voice shaking as he scooted back, and flinched away from the leopard, large and mighty and godlike, his life knowingly in this predator's whim, "What do you want? I'll give you whatever you want! Control? Power? Money?"

"What I want," Ausiliatrice said simply, "is to let off steam. And yet?" She asked just as Meleager pounced. She turned away, Rasiel's screams loud, then sputtering, then silent, and walked back to Argus.

"I'm still not satisfied."

Ausiliatrice let out a sigh, winding and elegant. She clicked her tongue, and held her hand out. Meleager's great head rose, jowl dripping with red. Muscles rippled beneath patterned skin as he returned to his mistress, and just as its head rubbed against Ausiliatrice's hand, it's fur shimmered once more, returning to beautiful, radiant gold.

Ausiliatrice met Argus's concerned look evenly as she turned, Atalanta rubbing her owner's leg before falling into step with her.

"I'll be fine, with Atalanta by my side," Ausiliatrice reassured the larger woman, "but I'm heading back. Clean up here," she said, putting a hand on Argus's shoulder as she passed and pushing off of it. Argus remained standing, barely turning her head and watching as Ausiliatrice made her way back to the castle.

Only after Millefiore foot soldiers jumped into the clearing, did the large woman step forward, moving large hands and popping her knuckles.

"Gladly," she said, accent thick and voice heavy. She took one look at the soldiers before her, mere fodder and nothing more. She removed the wrappings from her hands, thick and layered, and let them fall to the ground, just as the soldiers foolishly attacked, and Argus reared her bare fist back, already brimming and skin crackling, and the moment it made contact with earth,

Ausiliatrice didn't even look back as she walked away, backlighted by bright lightning as the scene behind her cracked and shattered.

* * *

"Her nerves are completely numb."

Squalo looked over, meeting her abyssal eyes as Ausiliatrice approached. She stopped, leaning against the open door where he was watching Atalanta and Argus; the lioness licking Argus's bleeding and wounded hands, sheared by her own lightning flames. And yet? The woman's eyes, seen the through only the slit in her niqab, were calm and painless.

"Her body can no longer feel pain," Ausiliatrice continued, "while at the same time? It feels everything. The power of a million eyes, but lacking the control to see everything all at once. Feeling everything and nothing all at once."

"The perfect bodyguard," Squalo muttered, eyes barely narrowing as she watched Argus wrapped her hands again, taking note of her skin; barbarous and rugged, scars atop of scars atop of scars. His eyes then went to another scar, on Ausiliatrice's face; marred skin seeming to smooth in comparison to the terrain that covered Argus's entire body.

"It's for religious reasons," Ausiliatrice said in a correcting tone. He raised a single eyebrow, his eyes meeting hers. "Her coverings. She's not ashamed of her scars, and doesn't care for other's opinions. She's faithful, truly, in many aspects of her life. She still blames herself for Hera…" And here, she trailed off, her face still neutral, but her eyes, they betrayed her in that moment. She moved on just before Squalo could translate the emotion: "It also helps. Her nerves get overloaded sometimes, and the soft material of the wrappings help her."

"Sensory overload?" Squalo guessed, and she nodded in response.

"Like I said, either everything or nothing at all," she concluded, with a small tug downwards of her lips. "But it's like she has to let loose sometimes. Almost as if her flames pent up and need to be released."

"Experimentation?" Squalo asked. Ausiliatrice shrugged.

"Probably. I never asked. She never told." And that was the end of it.

"You gonna follow me to Japan?" He asked knowingly.

"That message has me concerned," she said, referring to Byakuran's transmission earlier, revealing the true funeral wreaths. "But if all we have is ten days, then I'm going to help them in that time limit."

"And I'm going to beat the shit out of that baseball brat for fucking losing," Squalo sneered, clearly miffed. She looked at him, and barely smiled.

"So in the end, you considered?" His face scrunched and he turned, walking away gruffly.

"Fuck off!" He yelled back, waving his sword uselessly in the air. She smiled, genuinely, and went to follow;

But paused. She looked down the hallways, and now with a clear head, she considered.

But then moved on and walked forward. He, she decided, would need to apologize properly first, before she took the steps to forgive.

(But was she even capable of that? Forgiveness? Was it even a concept she could imagine?)

(How could one bare themselves to forgiveness if they could not bare themselves to others?)

* * *

"You still good, boss?"

"Hm?" Dino's eyes snapped, from where he had been looking out the window, to the blue of the sky, to the cloud's (to the sun filtering through them), and went to his second.

"Yeah," he said, then reconfirmed, "With the memories? Yeah," he reassured with a forced smile. Romario frowned, clearly, seeing this. But said nothing. He dropped the papers on his boss's desk and went to exit.

He hesitated at the door.

"If you need me, boss," he said, knowingly. "I'll be right by your side." This was met with false laughter.

"Thanks, Romario," Dino said, waving him off and nodding, and then slumping as soon as the man was gone. His eyes went again to the window, to the sky, to the clouds (to the sun, to the sun),

And he sighed.

Patience, he told himself, was his virtue. And he could wait for her to return.

(He had waited, these new memories told him, for years)

* * *

 _"i never told you, but i_

 _have a desert, pressed_

 _between the sacred spaces_

 _of my ribs, and you_

 _weren't made of enough water_

 _to prepare for a thing like that._

 _i'm sorry for the love that_

 _i knew how to give you, but_

 _still pretended_

 _i didn't have._

 _sorry for lying with the_

 _same mouth i kissed with._

 _i really am sorry_

 _for that."_

 ** _— SUBURBAN MIRAGE THEORY, by Ashe Vernon_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Again, the first and last scenes are in the present, and the rest are from the future._

 _So now we get to see more of Xanxus's side (kind of?)! And I have a habit when this arc comes around, of having a badass woman character take down Rasiel instead of Xanxus. Honestly let him nap, the girls got this, man. I had fun showing both sides of future!Ausil: her more motherly side (Atalanta) highlighted last chapter with how she interacted with the kids, and her far more ruthless side (Meleager) shown with how she cut off from Xanxus and pulls away from Dino (and you know, when her box weapons fucking tears Rasiel and Olgert apart). I love messing with box weapons, seeing how they represent their owners, and had fun thinking of Ausil's, which was hinted at with the myth of Atalanta, and the leopard being named in tribute to Mateus._

 _Also, this chapter had a lot more action and tension compared to last chapter, which was really light in comparison. I also had more fun writing it, just because I had much more freedom, plot wise, and didn't have to check with things like I had to last chapter. Also, a little backstory on Argus and Hecate. Well, more Argus than Hecate. I have fun expanding on background characters that kind of blossom into their own things._

 **Review Response:**

 **Guest:** I just couldn't help myself with the Hamilton reference man. I couldn't say no to this, I was helpless. I'm just nonstop with these references. Wait for it. Okay, I'm done, I'll stop now, lmao. And aw, I'm so flattered that I'm your favorite author, and I'm so glad that it's because of that reason! Representation is so fucking important, so I try to include a wide variety of characters. And I'm all for women empowering women, if that isn't clear by this story. Thanks so much for the review!


	29. Lesson 29: To Educate

**Lesson 29: Her Mother Taught Her to Educate**

* * *

 _"Take a moment to think of just_

 _Flexibility, love, and trust_

 _Take a moment to think of just_

 _Flexibility, love, and trust_

 _Here comes a thought that might alarm you_

 _What someone said and how it harmed you_

 _Something you did that failed to be charming_

 _Things that you said are suddenly swarming_

 _And, oh, you're losing sight, you're losing touch_

 _All these little things seem to matter so much_

 _That they confuse you_

 _That I might lose you"_

* * *

"I _refuse_ ," she said, abyssal eyes meeting Squalo's squarely, "to use your means of transportation."

"The fuck," Squalo hissed, hood up and stepping closer to her, the fur of his coat nearly tickling her skin as cold rain sprinkled against it as well, "did you say?"

"Mah, mah," Meilin chided, putting her arms between the two and pushing them apart with some difficultly, "Let's just all get along, okay? We have a long way to travel, after all."

"And I refuse," Ausiliatrice repeated, giving Squalo another glare before turning against the rain, and pulling her hood more in order to cover her hair, "to travel by fucking ocean, while it's raining, on the coast of _Russia_."

Her body shivered once more, as if wanting to make a point. Squalo sneered.

"What? Can't take the cold?"

Her response was just as icy as the weather that whipped their coats around them:

"I grew up mostly in the Mediterranean and Africa, asshole. I'm not used to this kind of weather."

Meilin once again put herself between the two before Squalo could fully respond to her snide comment. Squalo growled, but quelled, crossing his arms and taking a step back, the wood of the dock they stood on barely creaking with his movements.

"Then how the fuck do you suppose we get there, huh? From what both our sources are reporting, it's too risky to fly; those pricks may have given the brats ten days, but they definitely don't want anyone coming in help them. Both your people are being watched, and only individuals, and skilled individuals at that, are gonna be able to move undetected using those means. The best way to Japan is to go around, using the ocean! So, what's your genius alternative, huh?"

Another silence, filled with only the howling of the wind, and the distant yells of Russian fishermen, just vague figures moving about he dock they stood on.

"I… I think I can help, actually."

The assassins turned their heads, turning to the smallest member of the trio.

"How the fuck can you help, huh?" Squalo asked, his eyes barely narrowing. Meilin sighed, fidgeting with the sleeve of her coat, barely revealing part of a tattoo. Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed as well, but held far more knowledge than Squalo.

"You sure?" Ausiliatrice asked.

"It will be the most efficient way to Japan, with them helping," Meilin said with a small shrug, as if convincing herself. Squalo nearly grumbled, disliking the conversation going over his head.

"Meilin," Ausiliatrice said, letting Meilin walk past her, put putting a hand on the Chinese woman's shoulder before she was out of reach, "We can find another way if–"

"No," Meilin reassured, turned her head back and placing her own hand on Ausiliatrice's, "I have to face my past sometime. Eventually. I'm just glad that Suyin in with Argus, and not with us."

"Why are you coming anyway, huh?" Squalo asked as they made their way off the docks.

"Hm? Meilin mused, turning to look up at him. She smiled, another hum, and responded:

"It's simple really. I'm coming to visit family."

* * *

Steel eyes carefully inspected the purple box – no, he corrected himself, it was far more violet in hue, the exact color of his flames. Eyes then shifted to the ring on his finger, wondering, and in remembrance of the feeling he had before, when opening a similar contraption.

But this one was different, wasn't it?

Hibari Kyoya knew this much, just by looking at it, feeling it. Something stirred inside of the small box. And a warm feeling came with this. His foot, legs crossed and balanced on his knee as he reclined on the roof of the middle school (ignoring the distant sounds of herbivores, the others who he only allowed to trespass due to nostalgia), lightly bounced the small yellow bird that seemed content to perch. The bird seemed content to keep company with this version of him as well, despite the sudden switch.

This calm demeanor diminished the moment it was clear that his privacy had been invaded.

"Those guys are really in high spirits!" An oddly familiar voice called from above, "Looks like there's no problem with them."

Hibari immediately moved to a battle stance, disrupting the small bird and dislodging the box from his hand, allowing it to uselessly fall to the ground.

"Wait, wait, Kyoya!" Dino Cavallone called, holding his arms up in defense and showcasing a goofy smile, trying at innocence (but utterly failing in Hibari's eyes), "Don't rush. I'll start on training you properly."

Hibari lifted a single, slender brow, and straightened himself.

"Start?" He repeated simply, only turning slightly to retrieve his fallen box weapon, and allowing Hibird to settle on his hair peacefully once more.

"Yeah," Dino said with a nod, still sitting relaxed on the ledge and looking down at Hibari (a fact that annoyed the teenager), "Someone else is coming to properly train you, after all."

A blink, and then a smooth smirk form Kyoya.

"Oh? So _she's_ coming? That," he said, with bloodlust, ambition and steel glinting in his eyes, "Should be interesting."

And with that he stalked away, leaving a slightly surprised Dino,

who managed to trip and fall from his ledge, unable to catch up in time to correct the teenager.

* * *

"Next," Dino moved on, allowing a small smile as he watch Gokudera draw strength from the small amount of praise Tsunayoshi had given him, "is Chrome Dokuro."

The small girl looked at him, determined, and this caused another soft smile from him.

"I actually don't have anything for you right now," he told her, and that determination morphed to slight confusion, "because someone special is coming to train you. Same with you, Yamamoto," He addressed, causing the tall, Japanese teen to look over in confusion as well, "I'm passing on you two. Standby for now. If I taught either of you anything, those two would kill me for sure…" and he finished with a laugh, but Tsuna paled, knowing that there was promise to that statement.

Dino seemed to sober then, however, as he further inspected Yamamoto.

"You abilities, Yamamoto," he addressed, "of understanding the situation around you are second to none. This time when you get your training, you'll become something really spe–"

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!"

Dino's expression immediately froze, and the blood seemed to drain from his face.

"They're already here?" He squeaked, turning suddenly to look at the door, angry yelling echoing down the hallway as footsteps came closer.

"Is that…" Yamamoto muttered, leaning to get a better look. Chrome shifted as well, holding her Mukurou, the owl, in her arms now in anticipation.

"Voooi!" Squalo yelled out, entering the room in a blaze of fury, angry eyes scanning the room. Ausiliatrice stepped in behind the man, her entrance far overshadowed by the strategy captain's.

"Hey, I didn't think you guys would get in–" Dino started, his eyes going to Ausiliatrice and barely hesitating before going to Squalo, who roughly pushed him to the side.

"Squalo!" Yamamoto said happily as he approached.

"Don't tell me that's Yamamoto's tutor," Tsuna muttered, nearly stepping back as Squalo approached. Yamamoto's smile soon fell from his face and the others winced and felt the need to rush forward;

Squalo roughly punched the teen's face, and sent a crippling and swift knee to Yamamoto's midsection. They stared, shocked, and a single tooth fell from Yamamoto's mouth, clattering and ringing against the floor.

"Yamamoto!" Tsunayoshi yelled out, as the others echoed their boss, reflecting similar reactions. He went forward as Squalo slung Tsunayoshi's friend over his shoulder, but was stopped by a gentle, but strong hand on his own shoulder.

Tsunayoshi looked over, surprised to see Ausiliatrice.

"Leave Yamamoto Takeshi to Squalo," She addressed them calmly, "Right now, he understands Yamamoto more than you do, Tsunayoshi."

And the boy stepped back, body shaking as if hurt by the statement.

"Ausiliatrice is right," Dino backed her, sending a nod her way; a greeting she did not return, "We have to move on with our training. Luckily, with their early arrival, that means Chrome's training can start as well."

The young girl blinked, and her single doe-eye fell onto Ausiliatrice.

"Does this mean…?"

"I'll be the one training you, Chrome," She said, sending a nod of greeting to her father before turning her eyes onto the girl. "And know, that compared to the other's," Ausiliatrice warned, not letting her eyes leave the younger girl's for a single moment,

"Your training will be the most rigorous and painful. Are you prepared for this?"

And Chrome blinked rapidly, and hugged her box weapon tighter. Mukurou cooed softly, looking up, lovingly, reassuringly at his owner.

A moment (of doubt? Of fear?), and a breath.

And Chrome nodded in response.

* * *

Hibari Kyoya stood in front the shrine, inspecting it with careful eyes, barely glowering at the moss now infringing upon the stone. He turned to walk away, Hibird fluttering on his shoulder, and settling once again when the boy paused, staring at the figure, surprised and stiff, unnerved that this person had dared to come up behind him, and nearly mortified that he had not noticed them.

The woman smiled easily, one hand holding a metal staff that appeared to retractable, and the other holding an almost glimmering Red Panda against her hip. Her bare arms showcased full sleeves of colored tattoos. Hibari Kyoya's eyes narrowed, inspecting the woman's face and there, he found resemblance.

"You're…" he barely muttered, shifting only enough to make it easy to retrieve his weapons.

"Long time no see, Cousin," Meilin said with an easy smile, a glowing reflection of her own father, and his uncle.

"You ready to start training?"

* * *

"We'll start with a basic evaluation," Ausiliatrice said, her heels clicking as she walked in the large and empty training room. Chrome, almost hesitantly, followed behind her new tutor. Ausiliatrice stopped suddenly, and turned, causing Chrome to nearly stumble back.

"You ready?" The young girl blinked, and Mukurou fidgeted on her shoulder.

"You mean, you just want me to fight you?" Chrome confirmed, her grip tightening on her trident.

"And you should know not to hold back," Ausiliatrice said, her posture incredibly casual, but Chrome knew not to take this as a sign to relax.

This, Chrome thought, her throat dry as she swallowed, was truly a predator standing before her. Someone strong and proficient, and _dangerous_.

And she found herself nodding, and raising her arms to slam her trident down. Mukurou flew from her shoulder as columns of flames erupted around them, and the ground shattered with fiery geysers.

"Impressive, on a playful level I suppose," Ausiliatrice nearly mused, looking rather bored, and half standing in a column herself, "but this isn't a playground like it was with that fucking pedophile before."

Chrome stammered, the illusion shaking momentarily before solidifying again, but by then, Ausiliatrice had already moved. She easily cut apart the snakes Chrome sent her way with her bayonets, and in the next moment, Chrome found her head slamming against the floor. The grand illusion that once filled the large space evaporated to mist and nothing more than that; the moment Chrome thought it was over, Ausiliatrice roughly kicked the girl into the wall, causing her to cry out in pain.

"You need," Ausiliatrice said, and Chrome winced as she reached into her pocket and brought out a box weapon, and nearly groaned in pain when she tried to lift herself, fear striking her further as a magnificent lioness burst from the box in glittering glory, "to account for speed. You need to learn to fight when your opponents get past your illusions, and believe me," Ausiliatrice said, watching as the lioness approached Chrome, surprising the girl as it did so gently, and moved slowly until it licked the girl's face, only curling up against her when she had calmed down and realized that the box weapon was healing her. Chrome weakly clutched the warm, sparkling fur of the lioness as Ausiliatrice continued:

"Plenty opponents will get past your illusions as they are now. You need to depend on your own strength, and not his," and here, Chrome winced, slinking further down, as if trying to hide herself behind the kind box animal, "But first, you need to form that strength. As of now? You're _weak_."

Chrome shrunk further, falling more into Atalanta's warm fur. It was sad to say that she was expecting this, that she had been berated like this before, with her weaknesses picked apart.

"But you have faith in your illusions. Which can be worked with." Chrome blinked, then barely moved her head, her one eye positioned so that she can see the woman, now kneeling next to her.

"You have potential, Chrome," Ausiliatrice told her, voice much softer than before. She rose, and began to exit the room, heels clicking as always (but now, it was a much warmer sound to Chrome, instead of ominous as it had been before):

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have picked you as a student."

* * *

It was a brilliant clash of violet flame, spikes, and red flames, contriving beautifully in battle and fury. Hibari Kyoya went forward, swinging his tonfas in a triumph, knowing that this would be the finishing blow –

Only to pause, seeing a flash of his mother's face – and suddenly it was him who was hit with a metal rod, which sent him to the floor, breathing heavily. He spat, pushing himself up and glaring back at his cousin.

"Mist flames?" He seethed, more of a curse than a question. Meilin smiled down at him softly, holding out her box weapon and letting it retreat. Kyoya grumbled, but mirrored her action.

"It's recessive, and they aren't very strong," she admitted, collapsing her staff and tucking it under her belt once more, "but they do the trick. But that was a dirty one, wasn't it?"

He huffed in response, and looked away.

"I apologize. I suppose after visiting my ex again, those habits are bound to resurface…" A pause, and then:

"You have mist flames too, don't you, Kyoya? I believe it runs on our side of the family." And at his expression, she laughed lightly again. "Ausiliatrice told me as well," and she wisely switched subjects seeing more irritation in his expression at the mention of the woman's name, "but I wonder why you don't use them?" He snorted.

"It's disgraceful."

"It's useful," she argued, "in battle."

"What would you know about battle?" He called out, asking as an accusation and as a question curiosity. There was much he didn't know about his cousin, after all, as he had only bare memories of her, all tracing back to before his mother died.

"I may be a mother now, but in the past, I was a bit of a rebel," She admitted, sitting too, but at a respectful distance, which he appreciated. "As a teen, I found my father's preaching of safety to be meaningless and annoying. Due to the few times he visited us, I started getting involved in some…. unsavory business."

"Yakuza?" He asked stiffly.

"Triads. And when my father found out? He was very displeased with the violent path I had chosen, that actually reflected his own when he was younger. I thought it was hypocritical of him to say anything, and we argued. I always hated how calm he was. We're storms. It's in our nature to be violent, to have outbursts, or at least, that's what I thought then."

He was silent, and allowed her to continue, oddly, about the past of perhaps the only member of his family that was still alive in this timeline (how distancing was it to think that, almost cold).

"That put us at odds for a while, as Father… well he isn't the type to confront things directly. I continued to stay in the triads, but then I got pregnant, the father being the boss of the branch I worked in. Around that time, was when enemies of my father finally found my mother and I. I was pregnant and vulnerable, and the triads, although they were protecting us, they were part of the reason those guys found out about us…. They couldn't protect us in time, and Father barely got there in time to save me. He had nearly lost my mother and I once before, and to have this situation happen again and not be able to..."

She paused here, staring at the ground. And Kyoya allowed her that, not having known this.

"I named my daughter Suyin," Meilin said finally, "after my own mother. Father continued to blame himself entirely for her death until he died, even though it was my fault as well. He never wanted to me to fight like him, but like I said earlier? Our family is made of storms and clouds, and we have to release that energy somehow. But now I have a daughter to think of, and I can't be the relentless force of nature I was in the past, because that ended with me getting hurt. That ended with my mother dying, and I can't risk losing family again. Not anymore." Another moment, and then she looked over at him.

"That's why, when Ausiliatrice offered, I wanted to help you. When my mother died, I became I reclusive, and I deprived myself and my daughter of the opportunity to spend time with you and your family. My father distanced himself as well, and limited his visits even more than before. But you, Kyoya… you're strong. And you can get through this, easily. I'm just glad to be able to help family again."

And she stood and stretched, and spun her staff again until it was at its full length. He stood as well, tonfas at his side and ready. She smiled, gently, at him.

"Perhaps you'll be able to see Suyin before you return," Meilin said hopefully.

And if not in this timeline? He made a note to track them down in his own.

* * *

"Do you know the story of Persephone, Chrome?" Ausiliatrice asked, watching as Chrome slumped once more against Atalanta as the girl recovered from another sparring session. Her doe-eye blinked. And she shook her head.

"That wasn't her original name, you know," Ausiliatrice told her, "The early Greeks called her 'Kore', meaning young maiden. It was a docile name, as she was docile as a young goddess, nurtured and cared for by her mother. Persephone is most known for the tale where the Lord of the Underworld, Hades, kidnaps her and forces her to be her bride. There are many versions of this, and far more connotations, but I prefer older versions, some, where Hades isn't even present."

"In one, Kore was an adventures young woman who was deliberately adventuring and fell into Hell. In another, she hears the cries of the dead and chooses to freely go into the underworld to comfort them. That," Ausiliatrice said with almost a sigh, "is my favorite, because it puts such an interesting light on a goddess people typically see as soft. A woman walking into darkness, fully aware, just to comfort the damned. People often forgot the Persephone is a powerful goddess of the underworld. And an ancient meaning behind her name, now so well known? She Who Destroys The Light," Ausiliatrice finished, the tale having fascinated Chrome.

"Right now, Chrome," Ausiliatrice addressed the young girl, "you are Kore, having yet to earn a grander title. But eventually, I need you to become Persephone."

"Do you really think I can?" Chrome asked, looking doubtful.

Ausiliatrice smiled softly.

"You already have, in this timeline," She revealed. "Your future self aided me in Olympus, and we were actually quite… close," she defined, almost hesitantly, "before you began helping Mukuro once again," and this, this was said with a frown. "I had hoped that your reliance on him had been severed, but perhaps that is a task for this version of you. But Persephone, the name you took when helping me; she represents a cycle: death, and rebirth, and regrowth. And I hope that you carry this with you as well."

"You… You don't approve of Mukuro?" Ausiliatrice's eyes widened, almost as if that statement shocked her.

"Mukuro…. we share a tether. A connection. You know about this," she said, sending a nod, and Chrome blushed looking away and nodding.

"Your relationship with Mukuro is not my concern. It's the hindrance to your strength that roots itself in that relationship that worries me. The sooner to cut that yourself," Ausiliatrice said, harshness leaking back into her voice, "the better. For both of you."

Ausiliatrice rose at that moment, checking her phone as it buzzed.

"You're leaving?" Chrome asked, unaware that their lesson was over.

"For now," Ausiliatrice said, barely looking back, "Someone just arrived, and I'll be sending them your way later, after their report."

She paused at the door, looking back at her new student, the small girl's body already covered in injuries, but determination (glowing and not to a full brilliance yet, but _glowing_ ) still in her eye.

"Kore," she nodded, and then moved to walk away, but stopped, hearing Chrome reply:

"Hades."

And Ausiliatrice smiled.

* * *

"Oh? So Janus's own clones were taken from her control?"

Hecate nodded in return, mismatched eyes watching as Ausiliatrice flipped through the information Hecate had managed to take. Ausiliatrice frowned, finding the file to be lacking.

"Still no more information on the real Funeral Wreaths?"

Hecate shook her head.

"I suppose only Byakuran truly knew about their existence after all," she said with a click of her tongue. "I need you to find Janus after this. Track them down and see what they know. Find out what scared them off," Ausiliatrice ordered. Hecate nodded and bowed, ready to leave.

"Wait, Hecate," Ausiliatrice called, causing the smaller woman to turn her head back, "I need you to do a favor first. A new student of mine needs to be evaluated. Are you up for it?"

And the tiny woman smiled, her eyes switching colors as she blinked and twirled her umbrella on her shoulder before letting it fall in the crook of her arm, allowing her to freely sign:

 _"Gladly."_

* * *

Tsunayoshi stood alone, in the large training room. His eyes, usually bright, wavered, staring down at his box. He was uneasy, extremely so, and unknowingly to him, his box reflected that. He took a breath, albeit, a shaky one.

"Listen to me, alright?" he addressed the box, "This time, if you go all wild again," he said, referring to the first time he had opened it, and how it had immediately and ferociously attacked him in a whirl of flames, "I'll beat you down with all I have!"

The box shook violently however, and Tsunayoshi nearly dropped it out of shock, marveling and fearing how it was far more violent than before.

"You really don't know anything about boxes, do you?"

He shrieked, this time actually dropping his box weapon as he whirled around to face the dark-skinned woman.

"Ausiliatrice!" He heaved, clutching his chest and bending over, still in shock, yelling as he came back up, "You can't just sneak up on me like that!" She raised a single eyebrow.

"I literally just walked in."

"Still!"

She sighed and then moved to pick up the box, which was still shaking, nearly shivering with erratic movement.

"Aren't you supposed to be training Chrome?" He asked, still catching his breath and making a point to look away from the box.

"I'm having Hecate evaluate her illusions, and help her in that aspect, seeing that I'm lacking there. And while that's happening, I figured I might help you, seeing that you need aid in a aspect where I'm strong."

Tsunayoshi gave her a confused look, but still sat down when she gestured to do so. She mirrored him, crossing her legs and sitting in front from him, gently placing the still shaking box on the ground between them.

"Do you know anything about box weapons, Tsunayoshi?" She asked.

"Uh," Tsunayoshi considered, lifting a finger to scratch uselessly at his chin, "They're weapons powered by Dying Will Flames, right?"

"That's not what I meant," she said. He blinked, confused, but watched as she brought out a box weapon of her own.

"This is Atalanta," she introduced, "A graceful, maternal lioness, who has a tendency to care for children, and particularly other box weapons. She radiates warmth and sun flames, and heals those around her. Her saliva has an even higher healing attribute. You've met her before."

And he nodded in response, not knowing what else to do. She turned the box in her hands, and began again:

"This is Meleager, a leopard. He's volatile, and aggressive, and is keen on hunting. He's strong and powerful and large, and uses both cloud and sun flames. With the sun flames, he energizes himself, giving him enormous strength and speed. He supports these massive feats and is able to use to many flames, because as he hunts, be devours his prey completely, his cloud flames absorbing their own flames, allowing him to grow larger and take down more opponents."

Tsuna gulped, easily imagining such a creature being connected to Ausiliatrice. But confused, he spoke up.

"B-But, Ausiliatrice, you just showed me the same box?" She nodded, and he felt relief, not feeling idiotic for stating such an obvious statement.

"Both Atalanta and Meleager are part of this box," Ausiliatrice explained, "and it was specially made for me. They're been with me for while now, and we know each other well. Atalanta and Meleager respond to my emotions and my state of mind. Do you know why?"

Tsunayoshi shook his head again.

"It's the nature of box weapons, particular, box animals; they are an expression of our flames, and thus, they are extension of ourselves. Atalanta and Meleager express two sides of myself, they are what make me who I am. They are more than just weapons, Tsunayoshi," she said, her ring glittering with gold, and then a beautiful lioness emerging from her box.

"They are part of us," she said, allowing Atalanta to press her forehead against Ausiliatrice's. The woman closed her eyes momentarily, and the box weapon did the same; thy shared a blissful moment, and there, witnessing this, Tsunayoshi could almost feel the bond between the two.

They parted, and a part of Tsunayoshi felt sadness, jealousy?

Atalanta approached Tsunayoshi's box, and gently, picked it up in her mouth as if carrying a cub. She padded to Tsunayoshi, looking him in the eyes and waiting for him to extend his hand to catch the box the gently placed in it.

"This is part of you, Tsunayoshi," Ausiliatrice told him as Atalanta returned to her, brushing her head against Ausiliatrice's shoulder before elegantly sitting beside her owner, "so if you feel scared, frightened, anxious?"

"It feels that way too…" Tsunayoshi finished, looking down at the box. He took a breath, but felt coldness once again, remembering what happened before, and the box began shaking violently, more than before –

"Tsunayoshi," Ausiliatrice called, and his head snapped up. Their eyes met. And a shudder went through him.

"Breathe," she instructed.

And he did.

"You may not be ready today, or tomorrow," she told him calmly, "and that is fine, because you will be eventually. Close your eyes," and he hesitated, but he did, he closed his eyes gently as she told him to, "and picture yourself opening the box. Calmly. Breathing, breathe, Tsunayoshi. Think of your family. Think of yourself, and your happiness. Use this to light you flames and imagine opening this box. Imagine warmth radiating from this. See yourself, and a reflection of you, because that is all that is in that box. You are scared of yourself, without reason to be. Take a moment. Breathe. Trust yourself, and breathe, Tsunayoshi."

And he felt himself breathe once more, letting this warmth and air wash through him.

The box sat still and calm in his lap.

"Open it," she said as she rose, Atalanta standing with her, "when you're ready. Don't rush this. Breathe, and don't panic. Accept it, and let it play through."

And he nodded once in acknowledgement, fully in a state of calm.

And she left him, smiling lightly.

In the hallway, walking away, Atalanta growled softly, causing Ausiliatrice to look down at her companion. They stopped and Ausiliatrice knelt.

Atalanta mewled once more, and brushed against the scar of Ausiliatrice's face. The lioness stayed there, her head pressed warmly against scarred skin. They parted, only to lock eyes again.

Atalanta's shone, glowing, bright, knowing and golden.

Ausiliatrice's were almost ashamed.

"I know," she said, and leaning her head forward, Atalanta's forehead meeting her owner's once again in comfort.

"I know."

* * *

 _"Take a moment, remind yourself_

 _To take a moment and find yourself_

 _Take a moment and ask yourself_

 _If this is how we fall apart_

 _But it's not, but it's not, but it's not, but it's not, but it's not_

 _It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay_

 _I've got nothing, got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear_

 _I'm here, I'm here, I'm here_

 _And it was just a thought, just a thought, just a thought, just a thought, just a thought_

 _It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay_

 _We can watch, we can watch, we can watch, we can watch them go by_

 _From here, from here, from here_

 _Take a moment to think of just_

 _Flexibility, love, and trust_

 _Take a moment to think of just_

 _Flexibility, love, and trust"_

 ** _-"Here Comes a Thought", Rebecca Sugar_**

* * *

AN:

 **Note:** So the blog **she-has-her-fathers-eyes** is kind of taking requests right now! I've reblogged some cute asks/sketch request things, so check that out if you want! And feel free to ask things in general, or just talk!

Also, **what do do you guys want as a reward for getting to 600 reviews?** Because I have no doubt that we'll reach that number after I post this chapter, because you guys are amazing. We can do another question-answer skit with Ausil like we did before, if you guys want to send in questions again (or we can do that with more than one character? Like Mateus or even a canon character if you guys request it? Or I can post little snippets of a crossover/Au like a Hogwarts Au?

Let me know what you guys want either by either PM or review!

Okay, onto chapter comments, real talk, I want to storyboard a Ausiliatrice ad Tsuna singing "Here Comes a Thought". Like so, so much man, that song is great. And I listening to it the entire time while proofing. I actually split this chapter originally, just because I felt like I could make the next half it's own chapter? So maybe (hopefully) there will only be two-three more chapters to this arc? So, yeah

 **Review Response:**

 **Stranger 101:** Lmao, have fun with all those feels, my friend. Thanks for the review!

 **MonochromeJoker29:** Ah, who knows if she'll eventually find love again. Well, I do. Lmao. Thanks for the review!


	30. Lesson 30: To Avenge

**Lesson 30: Her Mother Taught Her to Avenge**

* * *

 _"It wasn't love._

 _We were standing back to back, staring at different oceans."_

 ** _-Thevisualaftermath_**

* * *

"I've never seen you this angry and confused," Meilin, far more youthful in the present than her older self that Ausiliatrice was strangely more familiar with due to her memories (still returning, still churning), "Rather storm-like for someone like yourself. But, then again, I suppose, technically, I've never _seen_ you at all in this timeline."

A kind attempt at humor.

"I'm pissed," Ausiliatrice confessed, her grip tightening on the cup Meilin had graciously given her, "and looking for clarity. For someone to blame for this whole fucking ordeal."

"Language, Ausiliatrice," Meilin causally reprimanded, eyes going to the crib at the edge of the room.

"She's a baby," Ausiliatrice nearly spat, not caring if she offended, not caring about much now that she had found a place to settle and vent. Her hand shifted, as if still stinging from slapping him.

(it had not been instinct, no, for instinct drove her to far more volatile actions, far more violent than a simple smack across the face; that had been holding back, that had been reluctance, that was a kind warning for this version of him, to not make the same mistakes of his future self)

(he wasn't the one she wanted to hurt, to fight, to take her anger out on anyway)

"I doubt she'll pick up on cursing at such a young age," Ausiliatrice continued, her eyes softening only slightly, looking over at the child.

"Children are observant," Meilin said sagely, leaning to refill Ausiliatrice cup, "and you would be surprised how much they reflect at this age."

"Not really," she muttered, remembering, knowingly. Another scowl, and a click of her tongue; she looked away from the child, shifting her body to face Meilin once more, her hand, absentmindedly, feeling her face. Meilin's eyes barely narrowed.

"You're angry," the older woman stated again, "But with who?"

Ausiliatrice stared down at her own reflection in her cup, rippling and wavering, and suddenly? Clear. She saw herself grimace, ugly.

"Myself."

* * *

Falling in love was a choice. And she had considered doing it again. With Mateus it had been reluctance, then doubt, then acceptance.

With Xanxus, it had been paranoia.

Why allow herself such fragility again? Why open herself to inevitable heartbreak through death? (Because at the time, betrayal was nothing but a lingering thought, outskirted and understood to be impossible).

There were times where she allowed herself imagery of Fate and Death, sitting across in grand thrones, pieces scattered about a board unrecognizable. They played coyly and flirtatiously with lives, but at least she could trust them with consistency.

(Human Nature, though)

(Now there, was a wild card)

Love was a choice, and she had been tempted to make it again. With Mateus, with other relationships, she had been younger and it had been rushed, and she had been lucky because of its purity, by the ease in which he had accepted her in her entirety, and how neither of them had to change for the other.

(but that was a lie, wasn't it? She had changed after all, because of him)

She had been hurt before because of this fragile human thing called Love, and was not eager for a second run. Fondness, though, fondness was a fault she allowed. And she had grown fond of Xanxus over the many years where their companionship had nurtured and grown.

But was that love? No, and she did not doubt this decision until their first spar, no – it was a battle, ferocious and dangerous, such a pure and beautiful display of power. Genuine. In which the spark they both felt flamed – and yet she did not catch (ignored?) the difference between these fires. She ignored the way he looked at her, and was that out of hope? Was that not a decision as well, was that not a blatant sign of ignorance?

Love was a peculiar thing. Fragile, and trust even more so. But it came before love, and this was important to Ausiliatrice.

In her world, many held family above all else, directly linked to honor and pride. Pride, she could understand, but blind honor and allegiance to those who receive pledges of loyalty without spilling the blood needed to deserve it (a metaphor, really; blood didn't always need to be spilled to earn trust, but Gaea always appreciated sacrifice).

Trust was such a fragile thing, feeling like iron, feeling steel when it was earned, but it was simply metallic glass, glittering and lying with its falsehood of strength; it was both the strongest thing in the world and the weakest to Ausiliatrice, and many complex emotions came with it.

She trusted him, after that battle. Seeing his full strength, so raw and gorgeous?

Trust came before love, but still she was not ready. Ironically (ironically) she was ready to trust, but to love?

She was content, with just trust.

Xanxus was not.

(and she ignored this)

She couldn't blame him for the faults of nature, for the faults of who he was and what he wanted, but she was angry, and needed _someone_ to blame.

 _"I'm sorry,"_ he had told her, but sorry didn't even draw the blood she needed to shed. An apology didn't compensate what was broken between them, especially when said apology was empty, with lack of knowledge of what he was apologizing for.

(but how could he do so properly, when she never told, never properly communicated?)

She knew she was being cruel, she was fully aware, but knew of nothing else to do but to severe ties immediately, to dismiss and forget those who break her trust, to shut down and forget.

(but how could you forget an _almost,_ how can you dismiss _could haves_ so easily?)

(you can't)

She was angry and hurt (and burned, scarred, but that was a small mar on the grand issue), and furious and wrathful, fully godlike in her anger,

And what a beautiful, cruel goddess she made.

(Hades? Oh no, Nemesis was far more fitting in his eyes)

* * *

"Hello, Dino."

Reborn smirked, watching Dino's body stiffen, repressing a jump as the man turned to face his former tutor.

Ten years older indeed, the hitman praised, seeing how his former student had grown in this timeline.

"Reborn! You shouldn't just sneak up on people like that, you know?" he said, scolding, but with good humor, smiling softly down at Reborn as the hitman jumped down from where he had been waiting for Dino.

"You shouldn't _allow_ people to sneak up on you," Reborn contradicted, then moved straight into the subject he wished to discuss, "I've been wanted to ask you: who burned Ausiliatrice's face?"

And at this question, Dino's casual demeanor fell, so suddenly that Reborn was mildly concerned.

"Well…" Dino sighed, his hand rising to scratch the back of his head ( _uncomfortable_ , Reborn defined, knowing Dino's habits and body language well. Dino scratching the back of his head meant either that he was nervous or uncomfortable, and often it was with a verging or completely negative emotion that Dino was trying to suppress. But why have these emotions when concerning Reborn's daughter?).

"That's," Dino said, reluctant (angry?) in both voice and movement, "That's a personal issue. Sorry, Reborn, but I would ask Ausil yourself on this one. It's better," he said with a sad shrug of his shoulders, looking back at over his shoulder as he turned away from Reborn, "It's better if you hear it from her anyways."

Reborn watched, silent and with bright, void-filled eyes, as his former student walked away from him.

A memory, so recent and fresh, played across his mind, displaying such a similar situation.

(Ten years, he thought, what a long amount of time. But what does that compare to 26?)

* * *

The girls, in particular, Haru and Kyoko, were boycotting chores and household duties until the boys told them the truth about the mafia. Which was a fact that Ausiliatrice found cute and endearing, their protests very adorable and inspiring in her opinion.

The two civilian girls were charming and soft, and Ausiliatrice, although she disagreed, didn't mind their stereotypical tendencies of acting as house wives. In a way, she was proud of this rebellion they had conducted, and Bianchi shared her opinion. Even Chrome stood with the girls, despite not being able to actively help them in their self-appointed duties due to her rigorous training, but still managed to give them her support the few times she was able to see them. Ipin was happy with this as well, between her constant back and forth runs to meet "Aunt Meilin" and watch Meilin and Hibari spar.

Ausiliatrice even found humor in the boys trying to do their own chores and take care of themselves, despite it being quite pathetic in reality. It reminded her, she realized, of Dino. And this brought a conflicted emotion.

She only stepped in when they grew more serious about their refusal to tell the girls the truth, after deciding to impart some logic and a bit of her own experience on them.

"We cannot speak to them! If something happens to- Gahk!"

Both Ryohei and Tsuna yelped out, Ausiliatrice revealing herself to them by smacking the back of their heads.

"Idiots," she reprimanded, looking down on them with a frown. They whipped around the face her, Gokudera and Yamamoto straightening as well now that they were aware of her presence.

"Ausiliatrice!" Tsunayoshi yelped, "You're with them as well?!"

"Of course," she said with a causal flip of her hair, moving to sit on the table as she spoke to them, "Women have to stick together, after all. But there's something you must understand," she continued, fixing her stare on Tsuna and then Ryohei.

"I had a girlfriend once; a civilian artist," she started.

"Girlfriend?" She lightly flicked Tsunayoshi in the head before continuing.

"Although the relationship came at a difficult time for me, and it was for the wrong reasons," Ausiliatrice admitted, "we did care for each other. But she didn't know of my profession, and I planned to keep it that way. She was a happy woman. Pure. And I didn't want her to know about the horrors of the world I both willingly worked in, and was unwillingly born into. But me keeping this from her put a rift between us, one that we never crossed. Although I'm still in good relations with Vivian, there's a gap that can never be filled. She feels that I never trusted her fully, or at least not enough. Even when that wasn't true at all," Ausiliatrice said sadly, but Tsunayoshi felt this sadness and knew that this hurt her far more than her words implied.

(trust was such an important this to Ausiliatrice, after all)

"But wasn't it safer for her not to know?" Ryohei argued loudly, slamming his fists on the table, "Couldn't she have gotten hurt if she found out?"

"Knowledge may be a knife, but ignorance is just, if not more dangerous," Ausiliatrice corrected him swiftly, "Love, of any kind, is difficult, but even more so if there's doubt, especially if it's based on difficulties with trust. Knowledgeable ignorance," she said, looking back at Tsunayoshi and he _understand_ in that moment.

(his father, his mother, his _entire life_ was built on this paradox)

"Is even more of a burden to live with than the danger of knowing," Ausiliatrice finished.

And she left them, to simmer with these thoughts.

And when she heard that they confessed to the girls, just the next day? Telling them everything, the truth?

She was content, and proud even, of the children.

(but were they children at this point, she thought with a frown. They were marching to war, after all, in only a week's time)

(Just when is the child to die, and when is the killer to be born?)

* * *

Ausiliatrice watched, and some would label her as cold, as Chrome's body trembled and fell to her knees, breathing heavy and using her trident to keep herself from crumbling completely to the floor. Her pale skin was riddled with bruises and scratches, red and purple flowering over delicate skin that most would label unfit for such harsh conditions.

But Ausiliatrice was not most, and neither was her student.

"Do you know why there are so few women who stand where I stand, who stand like I stand in this business?" Ausiliatrice asked the younger girl. Chrome's features soften, and caved into a small, delicate frown.

"Because we're weaker…" she murmured, disheartened and further slumping into her weapon. Ausiliatrice approached the girl, tall and daunting.

"No." It was a firm and confident answer. "It's because," Ausiliatrice continued and stooped, putting a light hand on Chrome's shoulder while her voice remained rigid, and strong, strong, strong (strength that Chrome envied, wanted, _needed_ ),

"Men are sexist and cruel, and don't give us opportunities to prove ourselves. They retain us so that we cannot grow strong; they fawn our features and shun them in the same glance; they think less of us," she told the younger girl, "and rip opportunity from us. That is why," Ausiliatrice said, dipping her head and making sure Chrome was looking her in the eyes, lifting a hand to lift her chin, "we make our own. And if we cannot? We find another woman who can for us; we must help each other, especially in this business, in this world we live in. It does not welcome us kindly, but that is why we must help each other. The best of us," Ausiliatrice concluded, leaning forward and kissing Chrome gently on the forehead, retreating softly, a tender expression, "know this well."

And Ausiliatrice once again stood to her full height, far above where Chrome was sitting.

"Now," the older woman said, looking down, but not with condescension; but with eyes that dared, that invited Chrome to rise to her height, "are you ready?"

Chrome's eye steeled, along with her grip on her weapon. Despite her shaking body, she pushed herself forward. Widening her stance, steadying her legs and baring her trident.

She stood strong, despite being wounded.

Ausiliatrice lifted her chin, proudly.

(Still not a queen yet)

(but still walking forward in the darkness, still hearing the cries of tortured souls)

* * *

"Looks like your training is going well too."

"Ausiliatrice!" Meilin turned to her with a kind smile, despite having dodged her cousin's violent swing at her. Kyoya's eyes narrowed, and something in them flared.

" _You_." It was far more of a curse than a greeting. Ausiliatrice easily apprehended him, however, much to his anger.

"You're 20 years too early to be challenging me," Ausiliatrice nearly teased him, pinning his arm behind his back, before releasing him. Her turned, swinging with a growl, but they both knew that the movement was nothing more than a bark, a simple display of aggression. Kyoya was wise enough to know, just having finished his spar (not training, he _refused_ to call it training) with his cousin, that now was not the opportune time to fight this timeline's version of the carnivore. He blinked, however, just now taking in the details, the changes in her.

"What happened to your face?" He asked.

"Kyoya!" Meilin reprimanded, her head whipping to him. He looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, and kept it raised when looking back at Ausiliatrice. The dark-skinned woman seemed to take no offense at his blunt question.

"We all form scars over the years," she told him simply, but by the way his eyes narrowed, he had guess that there was more to it than the simple dismissal she gave him. He huffed, and turned on his heel.

"I'm returning," he told his cousin simply, but made no display of annoyance as the two woman followed him back to _his_ side of the base.

"Chrome is doing well," Ausiliatrice answered Meilin inquiry, "She's healing with Atalanta now. She's pushing herself farther every day, and her illusions have improved since training under Hecate. That woman is an annoying adversary, and Chrome had picked up many of the woman's more subtle tricks. As for hand to hand, she's improving there as well. Finally forming a bit a muscle, and is using her trident far more aggressively now," Ausiliatrice summarized, moving to reveal a long scratch on her arm before rolling her sleeve back down again.

"Speaking of illusions," Meilin said in a softer voice, leaning closer to Ausiliatrice as she kept her eyes on Kyoya's back, "I've managed to get through to him, if only a little. He used one on me today, and I'm hoping he continues to use his mist flames."

"I'm surprised," Ausiliatrice admitted, "I know he hates illusions now, and I know he did even more so when he was younger. But I suppose his loss with Mukuro is much more fresh in his head."

And at this, Kyoya's shoulder stiffened and he increased his pace.

"It's cute," Ausiliatrice said, not bothering to lower her voice, "to see him pouting again."

The comment was worth it, to see his reaction.

And the tonfa he threw back at her was easy to dodge anyways.

* * *

"Why," he asked her at a chance run in while she was making her way to the other part of the base, "are you not fighting me?"

She blinked, turning fully to face her former student.

"Oh?" She said with a slight smirk, "Are you jealous, Kyoya?"

He nearly growled in response.

"Why," he asked again, "are you training that herbivore?"

 _That herbivore. Any herbivore. Someone who is not me._

"I wouldn't say that," Ausiliatrice corrected, "At least, not anymore. Chrome is far more of an omnivore now," she told him, turning on her heal to leave, but pausing before doing so.

"There are other cubs in the pride, you know," she told him, with that same smile that made him grimace.

"I am _not_ ," he hissed, turning on his heel in an attempt to leave the conversation, "a cub."

He stopped, however. Once again, he turned to his former tutor, his eyes looking directly at her scar.

"Who did that to your face?" He asked her. And at this, she frowned, and looked to the ground before answering him.

"A lion."

* * *

Bester groaned loudly and shifted, moving Xanxus's feet under the table where the large liger barely fit in the first place. His owner grumbled, nudging his box weapon with his feet, but not making a large ordeal of it, knowing the animal would not move.

Stubborn, just like his master.

Xanxus's eyes, red but calmed at the moment, moved from the pieces of the gun he was working on, to another object of interest in his workshop. He rose from his seat, Bester barely groaning a complaint when he was slightly disrupted in the process, but fell silent, his eyes open and watching as his master picked up the object from the shelf.

Rough, calloused, and scarred hands moved almost in a gentle motion over the pattern etched into the side of the gun he held in his hand, it's twin still lying, innocent and unused on the shelf from where Xanxus had taken the first. He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them?

He was in his usual office, two years ago, watching, listening to a conversation he had replayed many times before (one that he hoped she had as well), watching a scene that had lingered in the back of his mind, brought back with the aid of regret and forced to be played, using the back of his eyelids as a screen.

"Xanxus, no," she had told him, countless times before then as well, taking her hands hand to remove his from her waist, "I've told you before."

Empty bottles and their glassed stood forgotten on his desk. And despite her words, they remained close to one another, still where he had pressed her against the door of his office. Xanxus reviewed this scene as if it were a dream, and watching is own hand, now removed from her, clenched in anger.

Why, he asked himself, now a bystander and removed as he reviewed this, had she allowed him to corner her? To block her in, like he had? Why did she remain where she was, with one of his arms against the door, and the other fist already writhing with anger?

(Trust, was the answer, but this was unfamiliar with him. Loyalty, he understood, but trust?)

"No to the position? No to everything? No to _me_?" He heard himself growl, and Xanxus nearly winced, watching as he pressed his body closer to her. Now, he saw her react, her press herself more to the door, her left hand hesitating and ultimately stopping itself from reaching her weapon at her hip.

But why didn't she react then? Why didn't she break free at that moment before -

"Xanxus," she told him, her voice far more calm than what her body would convey (he sees this now, but not then, then he only _felt_ ), "I'm–"

And there he winced, allowing himself this humility, watching as this version of him roughly grabbed the side of her face, his other arm pushing her shoulder back, as his body thrust into hers. She attacked first, and vaguely his hand went to his hip where he had bled that night, but his scar from that night was nothing compared to the one she had received from him.

He had the decency to look away at the sound of her scream, knowing the ending well enough; she ran as she always did, and he was furious as he always was.

It was peculiar how calm would come at the price of such distance. Now, he watched this scene play out, end, and fade to black, separating himself from that version of him. And what a fucking privilege that was, to think of it this way. But the truth?

Xanxus had never been a fan of truths, seeing that it left him with nothing but burns, but he was man enough to face them.

Years of wanting her, wanting to _fuck_ her, to love her (but did he even know what love was? Does he know what it is?), and then thinking to force it all in one moment? He couldn't separate that from himself. He had thought they were progressing, that he was getting what he wanted with all those years of her getting closer, becoming more open, allowing him to touch her more, because he assumed they wanted the same thing, because they were alike, weren't they?

(apparently not)

She had never been clear with her intentions with him, and he had just assumed and wanted and projected what he wanted onto her; but she wasn't the one who pushed her against that door, and it wasn't her flames that marred her face that night out of wrath.

(What else did his flames do but burn? He didn't have two sides like her, his flames only burned and brought pain)

But it was her who ran and it was her who wouldn't take his fucking apology.

(Not that he deserved forgiveness. He didn't deserve shit for doing something that _he_ would do)

He would like to think he had a right to be angry, and fuck was he furious about what happened.

But furious with her?

He opened his eyes, and he was in his workshop once more. Bester was at his side, his large shoulders hitting softly against Xanxus's legs. The liger looked up at his master, and growled once, softly (a warning). And Xanxus scoffed, putting down the gun he had been looking at, reuniting it with its partner,

And hesitating,

Before returning to his original work. Once the gun was assembled, he held it tightly in his hands, allowing his anger, his flames to seep into it,

And he watched and felt as his flames filled it,

almost amazed at the softness of its glow, just before the harshness of his flames overpowered completely.

* * *

"Ausiliatrice," Reborn approached her, while she was snagging a drink after a after night training session with Chrome, "I've been meaning to talk to you."

The smile she responded with brought him confusion, as it was tinged with knowingness and sadness.

"I figured," she admitted, before sitting down at the table, and waiting until her stood on the table top across from her.

"I'm curious," she said, seeing that this was as situated as he would get, "when was the last time you saw your daughter, the one from your timeline?"

Reborn's mouth formed in a hard line.

"When I was watching her leave after the ring battles," he admitted, but noticed that, at his words, her smile became a bit more forced.

"I see. I remember that time," she said, but did not explain beyond that, even though there was more to it, there was more to it, but the last thing Reborn wanted to do was push. He didn't want this version to walk away from him as well.

"I've never been good at explaining why I leave; I just do. It's a trait from her, but you know that." Her statement surprised him. But he allowed her to continue as he listened, intently.

"I'm not talented at explaining at all, really," she admitted, her smile much more relaxed now and truthful, mirroring her words, "But that explains a lot with how I work, how I interact with others. How I form relationships. I don't really get others, and they don't get me, but I suppose I can attribute that to my upbringing as well."

Reborn said nothing. She continued.

"I suppose, I assume too much in relationships, in communications. I expect humans to be animals, to be predators, and speak without the need of words and instantly understand. When I was younger, I fell at fault for this, and I still do now. Acknowledgement doesn't mean change. I'm much too prideful for that."

She sighed, but it was content. Nearly happy, but not quite, still hurt, still marred, still healing.

"I blame my mother for this. That's how we worked, but really, we didn't; it was just a case of us misunderstanding. But we liked it that way, so we never changed. In a way, I'm grateful for it. It's a way for me to put trust in people without realizing it, almost like that tricking myself. And trust is a great thing until it's broken."

And here, she frowned. It was nearly a grimace, a scowl, Reborn noted. And almost hurried, he spoke:

"I'm sorry," he told her, with far less emotion than he intended, "for driving you away that day. For not being there for you." And now, he spoke of far more days than just one.

And she looked at him. And she chuckled.

"You don't need to ask forgiveness for something someone doesn't blame you for," she informed him, "I never hated you for not being there. Perhaps an abstract figure of you, sure, when I was much, much younger. But Esmeralda… mother never told you about me. There was no way you could have known."

Lies, Reborn thought, correcting her almost mechanically in his head, _lies, lies, lies_. And she was well aware of this. But she continued living this falsehood to its fullest and using it well as a weapon against his pride.

( _Pity_. Was this her form of revenge?)

"If you wish to connect with my younger self," She told him in a far more serious tone, the wispy smile she once wore for this conversation, now gone, "I would allow her to come to you. If that doesn't happen, and you get impatient? Do _not_ ," she said, eyes narrowing, and his couldn't help but flicker to her scar, for just a moment, "use force. Instead, extend an invitation. Speak her language. _Our_ ," she clarified, "language. You still know it, don't you? Or have your years playing as a tutor made you soft?"

He frowned at this, and she rose from her seat.

"And that day that I left, the one you brought up?" she said, looking back at him with bare amusement in her eyes, almost glowing, ethereal and abyssal,

"It's conceited to think that I left because you."

He watched her go, a bit surprised that she had told so much to him. But, he figured, she had never been quiet, or someone who barred themselves completely from speaking to others; his daughter simply was selectively of the amount of words that came from her mouth, along with whose ears those words reached.

Or perhaps, another part of him thought, she was softer now? To him?

He could only hope that this softness did not form from tragedy.

(It's so hard to tell if people are softer now, or just more broken)

* * *

 _"Who will lock eyes_

 _with your demons_

 _and declare them human?_

 _who will walk with you_

 _on scattered thorns_

 _you have called home?_

 _'Trust,' she said,_

 _'is about who comes_

 _and never leaves.'"_

 ** _-Mia Hollow_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Just the first scene is in the present this time, with all the others being in the future._

 _Few things:_

 _ **Incident with Ausil and Xanxus (clarification):** so, if you haven't already guessed, the information in the last few chapters was very one sided, and very little information was given in general. That's because I wanted to hint at it, and reveal more in a time where the two were separated, where both would act calm when thinking of the situation. Both Ausil and Xanxus are very action based people; it's just who they are. Which is what led to the ordeal in the first place, along with a lot of miscommunication (mostly from Ausiliatrice honestly. She saw that there was going to be a problem that would form later and ignored it. But don't take this as if being her fault, Xanxus should have never tried to force himself on her). Ausiliatrice is very much asexual and Xanxus is very much not, which is bad for Xanxus, since he wanted a sexual and romantic relationship with Ausiliatrice, while she was just warming up to a romantic one. Xanxus got impatient, not understanding Ausiliatrice's reluctance, and well, his anger and entitlement got the better of him, and Ausiliatrice reacted, violently._

 _However, him hurting and scarring her physically is not why she's so cold to him now; over the ten years, they had built a relationship and trust. Which is something Ausil values highly. If you haven't noticed, Ausil takes trust very seriously and tends to discard those who break it (Rashida is a prime example, along with Esmeralda's family, who didn't really have Ausil's trust per say, but Ausil still thinks similarly of them because of their treatment of Esmeralda), which she tried to do with Xanxus once he broke that trust. However, Ausil's never really had to cut off ties with someone she's actually really cared about before, and so is having problems with doing so. Xanxus feels regret for scarring her, and naturally, is comparing himself to his father; both are struggling with pride, because that's who they are._

 _And then there's Dino, who wants to comfort Ausil, but doesn't know how, because he doesn't understand her, and Ausil feels that he shouldn't because she feels like an awful person at this time, and therefore is closing off to Dino's attempts to understand and get to know her._

 _Ausil is fully aware of her fault in the situation, but is still angry (and has right to be), but doesn't know how to fix the problem, not prone to dealing with emotions like these. And so, instead, she tries to focus and help the kids, pushing this back and acting kinder around them._

 _ **Ausil character reference sheet:** I made a character reference sheet for Ausil, showing what I kind of picture her looking like! It has stuff like skin tone, eye color, hair length, and even some outfits/style I imagine Ausil wearing. I plan on doing other character sheets for other OCs for this story, and I'll let you know when I have those done as well. They can be found on the blog  she-has-her-fathers-eyes, and I'll be putting up a link on my profile here as well after I post this._

 _ **Symbolism collection/glossary:** So I've been wanting to ask, would any of you be interested in a glossary of sorts pointing out all the allusions/symbolism/foreshadowing for this story? I would have lot so fun doing it (so I'll probably do it anyway, lmao), and I probably wouldn't do it until after the story is completed, but I wanted to know what you guys think!_

 _ **600 Review Award:** So some of you responded, and liked the Hogwarts AU, and a few of you even wanted more Mateus AU. I will continue the Mateus AU, as I plan to do it by grouping arcs together (and honestly, part 2 will probably be after the story ends? Or maybe after the future arc, since the last two arcs are shorter and the future arc is so long? But there will definitely be no more than three "If He Had Lived" parts), so I could of want to hold off on any of those for now (maybe to ease your Mateus craving, you could ask for little scenes/headcanons on the blog? It would probably be easy and quicker to ask there, and I'd respond faster). I really like the idea of a hogwarts AU, and I coudl write out little scenes, and in that you would still get Alive!Mateus. I kind of feel bad for the non-Harry Potter fans though? But also, not really because_

 _ **Christmans Special:** Who wants an ansty Christmas special! Well, more of a side story? It's gonna be kind of sad though, so if any wants to suggest any other little stories or holiday things you want to see, just let me know!_

 _ **Reborn Raising Ausil AU (Back to the 600 Review Award):** A couple of you have expressed interest in this and I'm just... God, I feel so whiny for saying this, but like, that would take so much work. Mostly because I know you guys want a lot for that, and me being me, I would want to put a lot into that, becuase it is an interesting concept, but like... Bruh. There's enough there to make a whole other story. So, I apoligize, because that likely will not happen? Just becuase there's so much there and like... bruh. Again, maybe if you send in an ask on the blog, or PM with specific questions questions of ask for specific headcanons, then I wouldn't mind answering, but I don't think I'm up for fleshing anything out completely for this. Because it would be a lot, and it would kill me._

 _ **Onto actually chapter commentary!** I find myself basing Bester of my pets whenever I write him. So shout out to my dog, who burst into my room, opening the door (without shutting it, rude) and scaring the shit out of me, only to lay on the floor and groan loudly as I wrote this. Again, a pretty heavy chapter, and back to the adult angst. I'm going to try to finish the future arc (kill me now) next chapter? I really, really want to just knock the fuck out of this thing, man. And tell me if you want more clarification on some tings, and I'll do something similar like I did with the Xanxus-Ausil thing above for future things that might be a bit confusing._

 _Anyways, let me know that you think! Your lovely reviews give me life and motivation._

 **Review Response**

 **Guest:** I've been staring at this review for days. What is "The Fruity Shake"? WHAT IS "THE FRUITY SHAKE". Anyways. Thanks for the review!

 **Guest (Chapter 7):** Lmao, my man, you're gonna get good news soon, buddy.

 **Voldecourt:** That;s hilarious, bruh, and it's bound to happen, and it always happens to me; the moment I finish a big paper/project, I see reminders of it everything and it haunts me. Hope you get a good grade on that essay! Thanks for the review

 **Guest:** Yes, poor, poor Dino. But He'll get his time soon! Thanks for the review!


	31. Lesson 31: To Comment

**Lesson 31: Her Mother Taught Her to Comment**

* * *

 _"Life is more than just chess._  
 _Though king dies, life goes on."_

 **― Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity**

* * *

"Ausiliatrice!" Yamamoto greeted happily, turning from the fire and Squalo, who sat across from him, as the woman approached. She nodded to both of them, a nod which Squalo returned, and reviewed Yamamoto.

"You're his tutor," she addressed Squalo almost smugly, and he grumbled darkly before she continued, "I suppose I should ask you if Atalanta can heal him. The battle is tomorrow," she reminded them, catching how Yamamoto shifted, a bit nervous, but still confident in his newly sharpened skill if going by the grin he gave her.

"Fine," Squalo huffed, waving his hand dismissively. Ausiliatrice smiled softly, and went to release Atalanta. The lioness immediately went to Yamamoto, and the boy laughed as the feline licked his face, immediately healing the many cuts across it.

Ausiliatrice watched this, warmly, and then motioned to Squalo in question as she turned once more to the woods.

"I'll pay," she offered, and that was all it took for him to follow.

"You don't drink alone, do you?" He asked her, once they were seated peacefully at the bar she led him to. She hummed taking a sip of her drink before lowering it.

"My mother was an alcoholic, and it's genetic, you know," she answered instead. "It's better to have someone else, just in case I drink too much. To stop myself. A reminder."

Momentarily, his mind went to his boss.

"And besides," she continued, drawing his mind back to her once more, "I lost my old drinking partner, and I'm still trying to fill the void."

"I still can't believe you allowed that pervy doctor to get close to you," Squalo spat, his feature contorting to a sneer once more. Clear disapproval. She shrugged, humored.

"He was well aware of the consequences, if he tried anything," she replied easily. "He knew my mother, before me, and learned that lesson before I was even born."

"You get your temper from her too?" Squalo asked, a quick jab and a skillful change of direction. She looked at him evenly before answering, pausing to take another drink before doing so.

"I may be calmer now, but I'm still petty."

He scoffed. "I fucking know that. You ever going to forgive him?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Why the fuck not, huh?" He snapped at her, snarling, "You can handle a fucking scar, and I know that's not the fucking problem, right bitch?"

"You're well aware of what he broke," she snapped back, reflecting his temper, but in a rather cold manner. "You two may two go back and forth and lash out repeatedly, but Xanxus and I…" she scowled, looking back to her drink. Squalo clicked his tongue, but allowed her this moment, knowing, having witnessed, and yet?

Pride had always been a fault of his, and his boss was included in this.

(Intimacy was a strange concept, wasn't it?)

"Fuck off," she stated finally, ending the conversation. And he allowed her this this closure (but of the subject as a whole? With the confused look in her eyes, and the way she gripped the glass, nearly cracking it?), but only closure for this conversation, this finality not extending beyond that.

(And what of love?)

(It is far more estranged)

* * *

"You're still up?" Ausiliatrice asked, walking into the training room. Chrome looked over her shoulder, the grand illusion she had conjured falling gently to mist as Ausiliatrice approached.

"I felt like I needed to relieve of bit a tension before… you know," she said with a small, cute shrug, blushing slightly at being caught so late at night.

"Can't sleep?" Ausiliatrice gently guessed, and Chrome nodded in confirmation, hesitantly.

"Tea will help," Ausiliatrice promised, gesturing with her head. The conversation lifted once more once they were secured and comfortable in the kitchen, each with a mug in their hands.

"I've been meaning to ask, Miss Ausiliatrice…" Chrome began gently, a bit nervous, looking at her own reflection, rippling softly in her drink. More confident (curious?), she looked up to meet Ausiliatrice's eyes as she asked,

"What exactly is your relationship with Mukuro? In the future, that is," she added, wavering lightly with her delivery at the end. Ausiliatrice titled her head, taking a sip of her drink; her mug clinked against the table before she spoke:

"Imagine two men, soldiers, who are at war," Ausiliatrice began, confusing Chrome. The girl remained silent, however, used to her tutor's metaphors she sometimes used when explaining.

"These soldiers have experienced many hardships and horrors together. They've bonded, deeply, over these experiences, despite how awful and painful they were. They connect, eventually, in more ways than one. And although this connection is forced, and could be described as unnatural, there is nothing that can change their bond and tether to each other."

Another sip, and she continued, with Chrome listening intently.

"One solider dies, leaving the other alone. But the remaining one knows the dead soldier's memories, knows his life, has witnessed his love. The dead solider has left a mark, an imprint on the live one. Their lives had become connected. And there was nothing changing that. The dead soldier had left behind a partner, one that he loved dearly. And she, she loved him back. The live solider was well aware of this partner, and although he was wary at first and unsure, eventually, because of his tether with the dead soldier, he felt the need to respect and protect this partner."

"That is Mukuro's relationship to me. This is how he views me, and my connection to Mateus," Ausiliatrice finished, "and although it quite annoying at first, feeling like Mukuro was attempting to protect me, he managed to explain this need to me. Eventually," and this remark was added with humor in her voice, "In fact, I doubt he would like me telling you this now. He tends to cling to a image of himself where he doesn't want to care for others. But although it can be used against you, bonds with others don't make you weak."

(But trusting blindly, foolishly? Where does that leave you?)

"Mukuro and I cared deeply for Mateus, and he cared deeply for both of us. From what Mukuro shared with me about his experience with Mateus… I know this is true. Through Mateus, we're bonded, and I'm happy to share that bond with him," Ausiliatrice admitted, smiling softly, holding her mug and looking down at her own reflection.

"That's…" Chrome muttered, and she realized, she was going to say that this was surprising, but then? She realized it wasn't. And she recalled when these memories that both haunted and blessed Mukuro had breached and leaked into her mind.

No, she realized, almost sadly (with pity? No, with _empathy_ ), this tether they shared made sense, and they both treated it with the respect it deserved.

(With respect for the long dead, but still beloved)

"Now I have a question for you, Chrome," her tutor addressed, causing the young girl to look up from where she had been staring off with a start.

"Are you ready," Ausiliatrice asked her student, "for tomorrow?"

Chrome looked to her teacher, staring blankly before becoming determined. She nodded and gripped her mug, not as a display of needing comfort, but as a show of resolve.

"For whatever comes," Chrome replied.

* * *

"I'm surprised Meilin didn't sneak on as well," Dino said with an awkward laugh, breaking the tension between them as they hid in the base and waited for the battle to start. Squalo grunted, barely acknowledging Dino's attempt, while Ausiliatrice stood easily and relaxed with her arms crossed, not having accredited the silence they shared as awkward in the first place.

Reborn was occupied with keeping his holographic image, listening the conversation and reacting accordingly. Although he was still listening to them, Ausiliatrice knew, as they were listening to the conversation being held just outside of the base they had stowed away in.

"She had enough confidence in Kyoya," Ausiliatrice said with a light shrug, "and most likely was exhausted after convincing him to join back up with the others."

"She wanted to call her brat too, pretty sure," Squalo even commented, recalling how Meilin had approached him before he left, asking for permission to contact the Varia.

"Suyin's a good kid, you know?" Dino said with a smile, before looking over, almost hesitantly at Ausiliatrice. Something (and she knew, she _knew_ what it was) was clearly on his mind.

But she wasn't ready to have this conversation yet.

(Ever?)

Briskly, before Dino could speak, she walked from the base, revealing herself and approaching Kyoya, stopping him before he could attack.

"I'm not usually one to follow rules," she said, gently holding Kyoya's wrist and pulling it back, "but this is a rare exception, Kyoya."

He snarled, ripping his hand away and turning to face her.

"Ausiliatrice!" She barely nodded in greeting to Tsunayoshi and the rest before turning back to Kyoya.

"Hypocrite," he accused, eyes narrowed. She shrugged in response.

"I can live with that," she replied evenly. "Reserve yourself for now. If you don't get to spill some blood, then I'll fight you later."

At this prospect, his eyes lit up, and gracefully, he retracted his weapons.

"I'll hold you to that, _carnivore_ ," he addressed coldly, but there was excitement, bloodlust in his eyes at the thought of fighting this version of her (at the thought of her giving him the attention he deserved, being the one to catch her attention first).

"She handled him so easily…" Tsuna muttered in disbelief.

"Ah~" The group stiffened, hearing Byakuran called out, "If it isn't the ruler of the underworld herself! Hades, is it?" He hummed, his eyes glinting as they met Ausiliatrice's.

"You _are_ as pretty as they say," he said, smiling, but eerily so, "Well," he added with a shrug, eyes going to her scar, "At least, from one side, right?"

And Ausiliatrice smiled coldly in response, teeth flashing and showing.

"You're sickly sweet aura is nearly suffocating, Byakuran," she responded, "but I suppose you're having fun playing Czar for now?"

Byakuran whistled:

"As cold as they say too," he marveled with fake awe, before moving on to introduce his own players in their game, then explain the target rule.

Ausiliatrice stayed at Kyoya's side, and he allowed her to, the two clouds watching diligently (as always) form the outskirts of the group.

She only clicked her tongue, watching as two familiar figures jumped from above. The Cervello stood in their usually fashion, mirroring their former leader. Briefly, Ausiliatrice wondered how Hecate was doing in their search for the originally Janus, but soon her attention was occupied when the Funeral Wreath named Kikyo called Squalo and Dino out.

"I told you your bloodthirstiness would give you away," Ausiliatrice tutted as the two men emerged. Squalo grumbled in response, while Dino simply smiled and ran a hand through his hair as he greeted the kids.

Although both Ausiliatrice and Kyoya were unhappy about it (Kyoya more blatantly so than Ausiliatrice, who was far more talented at concealing this while not masking her opinion entirely), the audience and nonparticipating guardians were herded to audience stalls.

Ausiliatrice stood next to Squalo, keeping in proximity of Chrome, while Kyoya stood behind her, but near enough to listen. Reborn took a perch on Dino's shoulder. Dino looked to Ausiliatrice, hesitating, before taking a stance more towards Bianchi and the girls, who stood nearly opposite of Ausiliatrice's position.

They shared a look, making contact,

Before tearing their eyes away as the battle began.

They made small talk, or perhaps it was as close to small talk as assassins such as Ausiliatrice and Squalo could make; much more in resemblance than actual, genuine conversation.

"He's has a brilliant mind, surely," Ausiliatrice complimented Irie Shoichi, listening to him relay commands, "but true battle is a far cry from a board game."

Squalo hummed in agreement from her side, eyes lit as he reviewed the screens, and sneering; no doubt think of his own way to go about this, perfecting Irie Shoichi's commands.

"He doesn't seem like the type to have been in the midst of battle before," Ausiliatrice said, lifting her chin with her eyes barely narrowing, "Just the type that sits above and commands."

"That'll be his fucking downfall," Squalo agreed darkly.

(How, sad, sending in newly minted soldiers, while the veterans are forced to watch)

"Chrome," Ausiliatrice called her student's attention to her as Tsunayoshi engaged in battle with the Funeral Wreath illusionist (Torikabuto, she believed his name was), "are you watching?"

"Yes," Chrome said with a nod, eye trained intently on the screen. Ausiliatrice nodded and hummed in approval, recalling how they had worked with Chrome's illusions (with the aid of Hecate, while the woman was around), and with Chrome's new box weapon.

"In a way," Chrome added softly, titling her head as her eyes remained watching, "they remind me of Miss Hecate's?"

Ausiliatrice hummed and responded:

"Honestly," the older woman admitted, "I would be surprised if Hecate taught him, or at least had a run in with this illusionist. She's been around for a long time. She hides her true age with illusions, you know? But," she addressed, returning to the topic Chrome had brought up, "I wouldn't be surprised if either he adopted some illusionary style from Hecate, or Hecate adopted some from him. It could go either way. With illusionists," Ausiliatrice said with a shrug, and almost a tired (annoyed?) sigh, "you can never tell."

Chrome simply nodded in confirmation, and continued her evaluation of the fight.

Ausiliatrice blinked, then allowed a smile, seeing Tsunayoshi's box weapon for the first time.

"Ah," she breath out, "it's cute, isn't it?" Squalo's eyes barely twitched, witnessing this spark of irritation from the corner of her eye. Kyoya seemed to react with slight annoyance as well, but she suspected he was hiding his own reaction to the box weapon as well.

After all, she knew he had a soft spot for 'cute' animals, having known and traveled with the older version of him for years. And this version? He was far more open to her than the far more reserved man he would one day become.

Her small smile dropped, however, hearing Tsunayoshi's words:

"If it's a monster I'm fighting," Tsunayoshi's voice rang out on the monitors, just as he delivered a crippling blow to the illusionist, "then I won't hold back."

This comment, however, causing Ausiliatrice to frown.

What was his definition of a monster? Was it because Torikabuto was his enemy and a threat to Tsunayoshi's family? That, Ausiliatrice could understand and relate to. But if it was because of the illusionist's strange appearance, having revealed him only to be a severed spine attached to a mask?

That, Ausiliatrice found herself disagreeing with, as well as being slightly disappointed with Tsunayoshi.

(it was easy, she thought in that moment, to fall into the rut of believing the boy to be pure. But ah, he too was human, and he too fell to faults)

Her attention shifted to Yamamoto and his battle with the other illusionist, who turned out to be a familiar face behind the mask he donned at the start of the battle.

"Oh?" Ausiliatrice said, putting her fingers to her lips and barely titling her head in amusement, "how lucky for your student," she addressed Squalo, who was smirking at her side, eyes lit with excitement and bloodlust as he watched his student brace against his opponent. The one who introduced himself as 'Saru' was revealed to be Genkishi, the swordsman who had defeated Yamamoto when the group had raided the Millefiore base.

"To be able to redeem himself so quickly," she finished, watching as rain flames enchanted the screen, and the rest of the group relaxed from their earlier apprehension upon seeing the unexpected illusionist; as if Yamamoto's tranquility could reach them, even at this distance.

"He's taking full advantage of this second chance," she said, seeing the slight smirk on the man's lips, turning her head slightly to look at him. Squalo scoffed, crossing his arms, and barely lifting his head.

"He better not fuck it up this time," Squalo said, nearly glaring at the screen as if in warning, "If he does, he's fucking dead, you hear that brat!"

Ausiliatrice nearly hummed a chuckled, looking again just as Yamamoto opened his box weapons. Her smile barely widened, and her features softened.

"That one's cute too," she commented again, her finger still daintily against her lips as she reviewed Yamamoto's recently opened box weapons.

"Voi!" Squalo reprimanded, whipping his head to face her, "Shut it, will ya'? Box Weapons aren't supposed to be fucking cute!"

(Kyoya, too, stifled at her comment, but looked away when she glanced back at him)

"You honed his senses well," Ausiliatrice remarked seriously, her earlier, teasing demeanor diminishing as the battle grew more serious. They watched as Yamamoto faced off easily against his 'invisible' opponent. Squalo clicked his tongue as this, but retained his smug (proud) look at they continued to watch the battle. "You've driven him to devotion," she continued.

"I'm not the only one who beat some fucking devotion into a brat," Squalo said, his eyes cutting to Chrome momentarily, "That brat's changed too."

Ausiliatrice barely smiled, watching as Chrome looked to them, barely blushed, and looked to the screens once more.

"A shame she wasn't able to show off here, like yours," Ausiliatrice tutted gently, "After all the work she put in." She sent a quick, reassuring smile to her own (one of them, at least, the other bristling behind her), before turning her attention back to Squalo's.

"Yamamoto Takeshi surely has grown," Ausiliatrice said, watching teen deliver his finishing blow (and in that moment, her eyes narrowed, feeling his killing intent, but in the next?),

"But he has yet to realize his true potential," she finished, turning almost accusing eyes to Squalo.

The man merely grumbled in response, knowing this.

(Once, she would have been content with a child like this remaining in bliss. But where is bliss found in the midst of war? Where does happiness and innocence hide in times like this? It doesn't; innocence had been gutted long ago, with only torn, bloodied remains left to bury)

Reborn, Squalo, and Ausiliatrice's faces remained neutral and placid, while the others looked on in horror, witnessing Kikyo's technique (bellflowers, Ausiliatrice recognized) devour Genkishi's already dying body. They listened to the betrayal, and Dino frowned, looking down, his expression a grimace, but not a look of surprise.

He spared glances to Ausiliatrice and Squalo, and reviewed her almost bored expression. In the past, perhaps, this would have cause him to wince, but Dino has long accepted the woman's apathy in these respects. Understanding, however? No. But they were different people, with different upbringings, and so this was fine.

Dino barely glanced over at Reborn, asking for a drink as a guise to turn the girl's attention away from the death that was playing before them. Ausiliatrice eyes barely flittered in their direction, only watching momentarily as they turned away before looking back to the screens as the swordsman yelled out hopeless reassurance that his 'god' would come to save him again, that his 'god' would never throw him away like this, that his 'god' would not allow him to die after showing such loyalty.

(This, she thought, is why she had never been faithful)

She had always respected loyalty, and the man that stood by her side was proof of that. But Superbi Squalo's loyalty was far different, and much more appealing in her eyes, than the blind belief Genkishi threw at Byakuran's feet. It was a grovel, it was kissing bloodied shoes, it was putting bust lips against rusted rings; it was _pathetic_ , and unbefitting of one with such potential. It was lowly and weak. It was _sad_. Ausiliatrice valued and respected loyalty, but this display? It slandered the mere definition.

"How ironic," she muttered darkly, just enough so that Dino could hear, "that bellflowers symbolize obedience."

And she didn't even wince as blood spirt and gushed from what was left of Genkishi's body, in a flurry of flowers and vines and _scarlet_ (she did, however, frown seeing the blood freckle across Yamamoto).

But despite this death, as horrid as it was?

The fight goes on.

(Not without loss, not without loss, she was reminded, seeing Yamamoto's pained expression before he wiped it away)

(a rain indeed)

"Boss…" Ausiliatrice's eyes went to Chrome, and reviewed her expression.

"You noticed something, Chrome?" Ausiliatrice addressed her student, causing others to look at their illusionist. Chrome barely blushed at the attention, and spoke confidently.

"Boss… I think something is wrong," she said, her eyes not leaving the screen with Tsunayoshi.

"Think?" Ausiliatrice challenged with almost a click of her tongue.

" _Know_ ," Chrome confirmed, her voice much more assured. "Boss… he's trapped in an illusion."

The rest of the group immediately grew shocked and uneasy at this notion.

"Are you sure?" Dino asked, looking over at Chrome.

"I wouldn't doubt my student," Ausiliatrice said coolly (and this caused Kyoya to nearly bristle, again, and he shifted, clearly irritable). "And besides," she said, "that's not their only problem. The other side is starting to get serious. Or at least, that man, Kikyo?"

"He's starting to make his moves," Squalo finished with a sneer, watching as Gokudera braced to face against the funeral wreath, who was moving alarmingly closer as he picked off the decoys they had put out earlier. "Don't take your eyes off him!" Squalo snapped, despite the fact that Gokudera could not hear him. But already, the fight between Gokudera and Kikyo had progressed, the older man's speed being as impressive as it was, and with Gokudera barely managing to keep up.

"He wasn't observant enough," Ausiliatrice nearly hissed, eyes narrowing as the group realized that Kikyo had used his flower technique to wrap and seal Gokudera's boxes.

Squalo clicked his tongue in annoyance, his attention going back to Yamamoto, who despite finding the Millefiore's base and Daisy, the target, was stopped by a barrier.

"Fucking course they'd put a barrier up," Squalo said, but retained confidence in his voice, sure that Yamamoto would break it soon enough.

"Kikyo will find Irie Shoichi before then," Ausiliatrice pointed out, causing Dino and Reborn to frown, having already come to this conclusion.

"And boss just now realized he was in an illusion," Chrome attributed, her expression dimming as she focused on Tsunayoshi. Ausiliatrice barely softened, and moved to stand next to the girl, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't blame yourself; you can't help him in this weighted game," she reassured the younger girl. Chrome simply sighed, her grip barely loosening on her trident.

"My new box weapon would have been useful as well," Chrome muttered, looking downcast. Reassuringly, Ausiliatrice squeezed the girl's shoulder, genuinely not knowing what else to do. And Chrome reciprocated the motion, lifting her own hand to touch her tutor's and looking up at her shyly, but smiling softly.

Chrome winced again and reacted, seeing how close Kikyo was getting to Irie Shoichi. Gokudera, the appointed last line of defense, interfering once more, but that? That wasn't enough to stop Kikyo from taking down the moving base, causing the structure to crash and burn. Kikyo, after having easily dismissed Gokudera, looked down at the wreckage smugly,

"He's making a run for it," and at her tutor's dull comment, Chrome nearly winced, if not for looking at her tutor's expression; sad, as she watched Shoichi emerge from the debris of the crash and distance himself from Spanner, so the other engineer would not be hurt further.

But Chrome looked away from Ausiliatrice, becoming much more preoccupied as she returned her attention to Tsunayoshi's screen.

"Boss…"

A bright flash, across all the screens. A tremor ran strong, and shook the ground beneath their feet, effecting even the audience. And when the smoke cleared? Tsunayoshi was in a wake of melted buildings.

"... he blasted the illusion away with sheer force," her father commented.

"I _approve_ ," Ausiliatrice nearly purred, her eyes lit up with both animosity and amusement. Even Kyoya barely huffed, reflecting the emotions of his tutor.

It was expected when Tsunayoshi disregarded Irie Shoichi's suggestion, changing his course to fly back to the base to help his dying comrade and leaving Yamamoto alone to eliminate the target.

(But would he do that? Did he understand the stakes and the definition of eliminate? This, Ausiliatrice doubted, and this, she assumed was Byakuran's fallback should one of the Vongola get to their target)

"The brat's broken through the barrier," Squalo stated, having been watching Yamamoto's progress this entire time.

"But Irie Shoichi…" Chrome muttered and then winced, seeing Kikyo's attack make a hole in the engineer's body. The group fell silent, watching as he fell, just as Tsunayoshi arrived.

After a violent lash at Kikyo (which the man easily blocked and apprehended), Tsunayoshi rushed forward to check on his comrade only to be stopped by the Cervello.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," Ausiliatrice stated, looking to the other screen, "has attacked his target as well."

But Reborn looked over, gauging the tone in which his daughter gave this information. He titled his fedora, already knowing;

Yamamoto did not deliver a killing blow.

But Kikyo did.

"We've come across people like this before," Ausiliatrice began, just as the Cervello announce that both markers (the amount of flames, _their will to live_ ) had extinguished below the needed two percent, "Kyoya and I in our travels," and here, the younger version of the mentioned man perked at the sound of his name, and looked to the woman as she continued:

"Individuals whose flames are mutated, sometimes even more intertwined with their skin and body. Abilities, strange and sometimes damning, are opened up to them. I believe the Arcobaleno Skull was similar?" She said, looking to Reborn, who grimaced again, having realized this the moment what Ausiliatrice was alluding to, "and that person, the one who Byakuran was willing to risk as his target?"

"His sun flames," she said, just as sparkling, yellow flames burst to life on Daisy's marker once more, and they opened their eyes with a complaint on their lips, "grant him immortality."

Squalo scoffed, crossing his arms, his face shadowed and angry as Yamamoto gave weak excuses of giving a 'defeating' blow but not a 'killing' one. Chrome's face fell and she closed her eyes tight, reaching back for Ausiliatrice's hand, which the older woman allowed her to take. The audience fell into gloom and dread as the Cervello called the results:

"The victor of this Choice battle has been decided. The winner is the Millefiore."

Tsunayoshi and Gokudera stayed kneeling at the engineer's side, Tsunayoshi yelling out his name, until he was silenced by Shoichi himself. The man, although barely alive, seemed able to talk, or at least sputter words with blood, even pushing himself up and yelling out in defiance.

He spoke of his reasons for wanting to fight Byakuran and defeat the monster he created, a story which Ausiliatrice found dull and boring; a repeated description, across time, having heard similar stories of redemption from many others.

People make mistakes, humans fuck up.

But it takes trues strength and resolve to own up and fix it.

Ausiliatrice walked beside Dino, who barely nodded in thanks when he noticed her doing so. With a small fraction of the group, she made her way to where Irie Shoichi was, and even stepped in front of Ryohei after her father ordered him to use his sun flames.

"You can heal and talk at the same time," She told him as Atalanta burst from her box, immediately radiating warmth and working to heal the injured man. She motioned to Ryohei, who stepped forward with his sun flames as well.

Irie Shoichi spoke then, of parallel words.

Ausiliatrice was familiar with the theories, having a basic understanding and having been around enough scientist and theorist in her life (and what headaches those experiences were; Ausiliatrice valued simplicity, and those people clearly did not hold that virtue. Shamal, however, often fancied himself in trivial discussions such as these, especially when trying to pick up womanly, drunkenly so. The topic brought some nostalgia to it, sending a numb pang through Ausiliatrice). But never had she cared much for it.

Ausiliatrice was the type to live for herself, this current version, in her own dimension and timeline; to listen to any other version was nearly blasphemy to her, and an annoyance to think about.

But, her eyes flickered, and the allowed her mind to humor itself while Irie continued his explanation of how he created Byakuran;

What if? What if? Isn't that such a strange and daunting phrase? She allowed her eyes to settle on her father, and she wondered if there were a universe where her life would have been different if one thing had changed:

What if Reborn had raised her? What if he had been a part of her life, always? What if _he_ had lived? She, Ausiliatrice would hope, would be happy. What if she had not been scarred? What if she had been more forgiving? She looked to Dino, intently listening. What if she had been more trusting, for one who valued trust so much? What if she gave more chances? What if she allowed herself more vulnerability, what more could she gain from that?

Surely, there would be change.

(But was this notion a terror to her?)

But Ausiliatrice had always been a woman who was set in her ways, but she had always prided herself on her skill to adapt.

Atalanta stiffened and growled, eyes nearly in slits as Byakuran and the Funeral Wreaths approached the group after Shoichi had finished his explanation. Ausiliatrice didn't even bat a lash as Byakuran's' utter refusal of a rematch, and instead, like Dino (as she noticed), focused on being ready to switch to offense to protect the children. Atalanta's fur barely rippled, just hinting at spots.

She blinked however, hearing a light voice ring out, and looked to see her father's pacifier glowing a bright and sparkling light (alike to her own flames, so alike, so alike).

A young girl stepped forward, smiling softly and glowing. Her pacifier, a placid but vibrant orange, hung and softly bounced as she approached.

Byakuran's demeanor changed immediately, accurately described as a controlled panic (and how amusing it was, to see him that way).

Vaguely, Ausiliatrice remembered her father (from this timeline, not the one who was near her at the moment), speak of their boss. And this girl? She fit the description perfectly.

"You've grown, Uni," Reborn addressed immediately brightening, becoming hopeful (but who doesn't, at the sight of their beloved boss, smiling once more and happy, despite the circumstances).

The remainder of the confrontation went by rather quickly for Ausiliatrice; Uni confronted Byakuran about drugging her, and revealed that she was the holder of the pacifiers, showing them glow brightly in her own hands. Byakuran reacted by attempting to take both Uni and the pacifiers back, an action that Ausiliatrice's father refused entirely, even pulling his weapon and _shooting_ ,

(and in that moment, Ausiliatrice grew excited, seeing her father want to fight and confront)

Uni asking for protection from Tsunayoshi (and by extension, the Vongola and allies), and soon enough, after Byakuran's clear outrage of losing his alliance and the pacifiers, along with the girl who could use them properly, it was clear the direction where this was going.

(After all, seeing the way Uni backed away from Byakuran, how she shouted 'no' with such determination and defiance, and _fear_ , how could Ausiliatrice turn away from a young girl who need help?)

Atalanta's fur rippled to spotted, and Meleager let loose a defying sound of anger. The leopard arced forward to stand with Squalo and Kyoya, who had already blocked and intercepted Kikyo's first attack as soon as Byakuran gave the command to retrieve Uni. Leaving her box weapon to combat against Zakuro's abrasive storm flames, Ausiliatrice approached Uni, placing a gentle hand on the young girl's shoulder first.

"We need to move," she told Uni and Tsunayoshi simply, before gently moving Uni behind her, eyes cutting and reaffirming that Squalo, Kyoya, and Meleager maintained their barricade. The young girl nodded softly, while Tsunayoshi needed a reaffirming tug before he stopped his panicking and moved with them.

Ausiliatrice watched the young girl's expression as Byakuran called out threats to her, including one to Uni's family. With a slow blink and heavy eyes (so young, and so old; what a sad paradox to see in a child), Uni ignore Byakuran's comments as Ausiliatrice led her back, while Tsuna yelled to others to protect her.

Chaos ensued immediately after. Ah, but wasn't this a part of their lives now?

(wasn't this part of the _rush_ )

Ausiliatrice was never a fan of fleeing, but seeing the children, injured, seeing the small girl that now clung to her arm as they ran from the chaos behind them?

(She could stand a blow against her pride, for this)

* * *

 _"Some women play hard to get, I play difficult to understand."_

 ** _\- Carrie Fisher_**

* * *

 **Christmas Special:**

 _"I'll be home for Christmas_  
 _You can plan on me_  
 _Please have snow and mistletoe_  
 _And presents by the tree_

 _Christmas eve will find you_  
 _Where the love light gleams_  
 _I'll be home for Christmas_  
 _If only in my dreams"_

 ** _\- "I'll Be Home for Christmas" written by Kim Gannon, composed by Walter Kent_**

* * *

Delicately, she reached up to frame the window with dainty lights, and music drafted through the apartment, just as gentle as the snow falling outside of the window. She saw her reflection as she finished her project, and momentarily, allowed herself to take in the absence, the void and obvious empty spot at her side.

 _She had almost regretted not going with him on his assignment in America. Perhaps, if she had gone, this obsession wouldn't have followed him back._

 _"What," she asked blankly after opening the door, "are you wearing. And what have you done to our apartment?"_

 _He laughed, the bell attached to his hat jingling vibrantly as his head moved back with the sound._

 _"Come on, Ausil," he teased, holding out a pair of antlers to her, "it's Christmas!"_

 _"It's December 4th," she corrected, but then corrected as she took the antlers from her, "and it's Ausiliatrice."_

 _He nearly beamed, glowing as she put the antlers on her head, despite the sour look she gave him when doing so._

She moved to the kitchen, pouring hot water and tearing open a packet, the sweet smell assaulting her immediately upon doing so. With a slight scrunch of her nose, she mixed the two in the mug, before lifting it and moving to the couch, where she draped herself out, and allowed her body to relax.

She lifted the mug to her lips, and drank,

despite not liking it sweetness.

(She had always preferred bitter, but him?)

 _"What the fuck," she hissed, immediately pushing the mug back to him, "did you just make me drink?"_

 _"You've never had hot chocolate!" he said, nearly offended, and acting it, "That's awful! You've been deprived, yeah?!"_

 _"It's too sweet," she said, reaching for her coffee immediately to purge the taste from her mouth. Mateus laughed at this, taking a large swig of his own drink. Looking back at him, she rolled her eyes, and reached forward to wipe away the large mustache he had given himself with remainder of the chocolate. He laughed again, and leaned away shaking his head happily._

 _"Sun?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes._

 _"Flower?" She said, suspicious and already with regret. He swept forward, kissing her sloppily on her cheek, and leaving a mark of hot chocolate residue. She scrunched her face, and moved to push him away,_

 _but couldn't help but let out a string of laughter when doing so._

Her eyes wandered around the room, reviewing the few decorations she had scrounged and managed to put up, and then? They landed on a small plant, thrown callously onto the coffee table. She nearly hesitated, then picked it up, inspecting it with sad, heavy eyes.

 _"Oh," he said, his earlier cheer dropping. She looked over, having just unwrapped the present he had gotten for her (grateful to be distracted from the guilt she was feeling for not having gotten him anything)._

 _"You," he said, just now realizing this thought and looking over at her apologetically as he held the mistletoe in large hands, "are not going to like this tradition."_

 _She titled her head in question and he explained._

 _"You're supposed to kiss," he said a bit awkward and rolling his shoulders, "if you're caught under it. But, you know, you'd hate that, yeah? I mean, the whole idea of it, being forced to something, the contact –_

 _She surprised him, leaning forward and putting a finger against his lips. She blinked, slowly, an idea forming, as she tenderly took the mistletoe from him. She studied it, and he was amazed at she did so; enchanted by her beauty and marveling at their intimacy (as he did every day they spent together)._

 _She sighed, and spoke:_

 _"This isn't," she clarified, holding the mistletoe up between them, "because of any fucking tradition. It's your present."_

 _And Mateus stared blankly,_

 _And then grinned widely in response, the skin crinkling (as always, and she loved that, always) beneath his eyes._

 _She cupped his face with her free hand, and leaned towards him._

She looked down at the mistletoe, now in her hands, her knees curled against her as she sat on the couch; despite the lights, the room felt dim, despite the hum of the heater, the room felt cold. The snow fell in wails just outside the window. She inspected the small object in her hand, and gently,

She lifted it and kissed it's leaves.

"Merry Christmas, Mateus."

* * *

 _AN:_

 _The last quote (before the Christmas special) was a tribute to Carrier Fisher, may her and Debbie Reynolds rest in piece (hearing about both of them just made me so fucking sad, I've looked up to them both for so long, man)_

 _I honestly have no idea whether it's Uni or Yuni, so I'm just going to go by what Fanfiction has her as (which is Uni, btw)._

 _Also, it's funny, because Dino's a very much "hey let's talk about our feelings" person and Ausiliatrice is very much a "wow I do not want to deal with this so I'm just going to not" person. Also, Kyoya acting like a bratty child who is jealous of his siblings is so fucking adorable. You'll get time with mom eventually, honey, don't you worry._

 _I'm going to cut it off there, and finish the future arc (aka the arc that will be the death of evenly) next chapter, just to save you and myself the torture of long segments of Ausil watching and commenting (because although there will be action between it, I'll just tell you now that the end end battle? Tsuna vs. Byakuran? Yeah, that kind of has to happen, and there's not a good way to insert Ausil into that). Also, this nearly killed me. Yay! Future Arc!_

 _Also, I put in the Christmas/Holiday special at the end there. So yay! Angst and fluff!_

 _ **Is there anything specific you want from the Hogwarts AU?** Because it's going up next chapter._

 _Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm hella tired and a lil buzzed (I'm already a wine mom, lmao)_

 **Review Response:**

 **sam:** Aw, thanks so much! I'm glad that you liked the story and Ausil! And glad to hear that you binged it, lmao~ Thanks for the review!

 _-Evenly_


	32. Lesson 32: To Witness

**Chapter 32: Her Mother Taught Her to Witness**

* * *

 _THE POOL PLAYERS._

 _SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL._

 _We real cool. We_

 _Left school. We_

 _Lurk late. We_

 _Strike straight. We_

 _Sing sin. We_

 _Thin gin. We_

 _Jazz June. We_

 _Die soon._

 ** _-Gwendolyn Brooks_**

* * *

Briefly, Ausiliatrice had considered going after Kyoya, who had run off in order to protect his precious school. After they had returned, the Funeral Wreaths had followed, naturally, but were scattered due to the damaged transport. But Meilin had ran after her younger cousin in Ausiliatrice's stead, assuring the other woman that she would take care of the young man.

And so Ausiliatrice remained with the group at the Vongola base, which she didn't mind seeing that Uni had found comfort at Ausiliatrice's side. All the girls in fact, were calmer, with Ausiliatrice watching over them and staying with them as they waited for the inevitable.

Kyoko's hand barely shook as she changed her clothes, an immediate action the girls had taken to when they reached safety, seeing that their uniforms from the choice battle were no longer needed. Chrome was the first to finish, and uncertainly – no, her eye was suspicious and determined, looking for danger and knowing that there was a limit to this peace, just as Ausiliatrice had taught her.

"What are your thoughts," Ausiliatrice asked her student, causing the girl to look to Ausiliatrice instead, "about Mukuro Rokudo showing up?"

Chrome blinked, once and slowly, reviewing the short exchange Mukuro had with the group before baring against Byakuran, giving the Vongola and Uni their chance to escape and buy what little time they had. Chrome thought about the question carefully before forming an answer.

"It was… refreshing," she stated, "seeing him again. Knowing that….. my belief being proven, that he was alive after all."

Ausiliatrice nodded once, and Chrome took that as approval. In that moment, Chrome released the small bit of tension in her shoulders she didn't know she had been holding. With a slight blush and a small murmur, she walked away to look for clothes for Uni to change into.

This was when Uni addressed Ausiliatrice. It was something the older woman guessed the younger wanted to for a while, but just gained the confidence to do so.

"Miss Ausiliatrice?" Uni started, far more curious than hesitant. "May I ask you something? I'm afraid it's rather personal…" Ausiliatrice reviewed the girl carefully, but saw only purity in her countenance.

"While we have time," Ausiliatrice allowed, "you might as well." Uni nearly glowed at this.

"I was wondering… since you are Uncle Reborn's daughter," Uni began, "I was wondering what kind of woman he would fall in love with? What was your mother like?"

Truthfully, the young girl had caught Ausiliatrice off guard, with such a question. Ausiliatrice expressed this, her eyes widening slightly as she leaned back from the girl. Uni noticed this of course, and brought her hands up, pilfering lightly in dismissal.

"Of course, you don't have to answer, if it's too invasive," Uni assured her, "I was just curious, since Uncle Reborn never talked about her and I don't think Mother knew either…" she trailed off softly, her smile mirroring her hesitance, and her eyes shifted to the side. Memories, warm and inviting; Ausiliatrice could recognize when a girl was missing her mother after all, and she found Uni's expression reminiscent of one she was sure she wore often as a child.

(and it was in this moment that Ausiliatrice realized that Uni's mother, Aria, was near, if not the same age as Ausiliatrice; or, at least, she was before she died)

"What was yours like?" Ausiliatrice asked instead, critiquing her body language, and making it far more open and inviting. The question surprised Uni, but in a pleasant way. The young girl smiled, and brought her hands together, clasping her pacifier.

"She… was warm. And soft, and lovely," Uni said, recalling, "I don't remember much," she admitted softly, "but what I do remember? Happiness, and her smile. The family loved her, like they love me." And this, she frowned, recalling how she had sealed that same family's fate by defying Byakuran. Seeing this, Ausiliatrice sought to distract the girl:

"Brutal, and harsh," she said quickly, earning a puzzled look from Uni. "My mother," Ausiliatrice clarified, "she was vulgar, and rude. She cursed, often," and this was said with a small laugh.

But Uni smiled, understanding. Empathy.

"But you loved her, and remember her fondly," the young girl spoke for Ausiliatrice.

"As you remember yours," Ausiliatrice answered in turn.

A moment, and Ausiliatrice allowed herself to find comfort in this, this warm and calming aura radiating softly from the young girl.

And then Zakuro arrived.

* * *

"You don't think you can take him alone, do you?" Ausiliatrice said, stepping forward to almost brush shoulders with Squalo. Her hand moving to her hip, Meleager was released in a flurry of sun and cloud flames, adding to the defense Squalo was already upholding against the Funeral Wreath.

Uni frowned, and moved her hand as if to reach out to Ausiliatrice, but with one look back from the woman herself, Uni nodded simply and moved closer to Dino's side. Although the woman showed both traits clearly? This was a time for Ausiliatrice to be a warrior, a predator, and side line her protective nature for now. The Cavallone boss frowned, seeing Ausiliatrice step forward, but let out a small sigh, _knowing_ (and accepting) _._

"Although Uni needs protection, it would be a shame to see Superbi Squalo perish. Or," Ausiliatrice added wryly, "at least, it would be a feat I would want to witness. Tsunayoshi," she snapped, and at this, the boy stiffened.

"Protect her," Ausiliatrice said as their eyes met, and Tsunayoshi felt a shiver run through him once more (ah, but was this fear? Or determination?), "You've been given another chance. Don't fuck this up."

Her eyes then shifted from Tsunayoshi to Chrome,

and Ausiliatrice nodded at her student, a gesture which Chrome returned.

"But Squalo, Ausiliatrice!" Tsunayoshi yelled out in protest, seeing Zakuro's callous smirk, reviewing his opponents and viewing them as lesser, easily. Dino however, put a hand on the boy's shoulder, his other gently moving Uni back with him before turning.

"They'll be fine," Dino reassured the group, motioning for them to move back and turn, just as the battle truly sparked and flamed. Pointedly, Dino looked to Reborn, who seemed disgruntled by the situation as well, and yet? He remained silent as the group fled.

"Don't try to hide it," Squalo sneered, releasing his box weapon as he addressed the woman standing beside him, "you're fucking antsy too."

"We'll let the kids play later," Ausiliatrice said, glancing to see that the others had left, before her eyes shifted back to their opponent,

Who yawned in response, causing her eyes to glint, _offended_.

"It's our turn to raise some Hell."

(Hades is far from a just title, after all)

* * *

A tremor ran underneath the group, worrying and wild. Yamamoto looked back to the base, deep concern etching his features.

"I'm…" he said, then with far more resolve (stupidity, stupidity), "I'm going back!"

Immediately, he was smacked harshly by Reborn.

Shocked, a hand went to hold his offended cheek as Yamamoto stared down at the hitman, who was glowering, head turned to the side, away from the base, and fists balled tightly and releasing uncertainly.

"Are–" He reevaluated, clenching his fist again before looking up at Yamamoto, "Are you going to waste the valuable time that Ausiliatrice and Squalo are buying for us?"

"Kid…" Yamamoto breathed out, almost awed by the sheer amount of emotion in Reborn's eyes before it was carefully hidden with one blink.

Dino hid his own scowl, but couldn't resist the temptation of looking back. Another tremor, and Dino did scowl this time, but with resolve, with motivation

(because they couldn't die, _she couldn't die_ )

For the group's sake (for his own?), he vocalized this:

"With those two…. Well," Dino said, his usual (yet, it was forced wasn't it?) crooked grin playing coy on his lips,

"I don't think they have plans of dying anytime soon."

* * *

"Why do you guys even try, huh?" Zakuro drawled, reviewing the rubble that once was the Vongola base. His eyes narrowed, hearing a distinct sound, and he scowled, bringing his arms up as bullets pelted them. Although not penetrating completely, they were enhanced with sun flames, increasing their speed and strength, making them a nuisance and a fucking pain to deal with. That woman's doing, he knew.

"Where are you, bitch!?" He yelled out, raising his arms and practically melting an entire section with his storm flames. Breathing heavily out of anger, he reviewed his work, before kicking the ground, cracking it with his strength.

 _Annoying_ , he concluded, the two of them together. While they had both managed to barrage him with attacks in the beginning, Superbi Squalo took most the brunt, and was the most injured. As for the woman, Hades? She stayed back, assisting with bullets, while her box weapon acted as a vanguard. _Weak, pitiful, pathetic_ , Zakuro defined, and yet, they were smart. Tactful. And now? While the woman annoyed him, no doubt, her box weapon was healing the man.

"It's time to end this," Zakuro muttered darkly, tearing his shirt to reveal his carnage box.

"Why do you follow him?"

Immediately, he shot storm flames in the direction of the voice, only for the woman to roll and dodge easily, moving quickly out of the way. She skimmed to a halt, standing tall, and titling her head, almost curiously. His scowl shifted to a smirk, arrogant and defiant.

"Finally showing yourself, huh?" He drawled, feeling confident now that his opponent was in the open, with barely anything left to hide behind now, "You tired of hiding, bitch?"

"You didn't answer my question," she stated, maintaining eye contact, angering him (it was the eyes, wasn't it? The eeriness of them?).

And he moved forward in rage, in which she countered, fending him with bayonets, before shooting, putting distance between them again.

"Who," she asked again, "did you lose to make you this way?"

(A gamble, she knew, but God did they need some luck)

And in that moment, she saw a man, crumbling,

Before anger overtook him.

"Shut up, idiot!" he yelled out, moving his jacket aside again, and stamping his ring into his box. Ausiliatrice let out a breath of a curse, and dove to the side again, barely missing a burst of storm flames, practically magma compared to the petty heat he had used before.

True carnage, she thought, but ah, chaos had an origin, had a _weakness_.

"This a fucking dance to you?!" Zakuro yelled out, enraged and focus completely on Ausiliatrice, who's speed, although impressive, was quickly faltering against this new, far more superior form his carnage box brought him.

She was breathing heavily, and her skin, the little that was bared, was singing, due to her own flame output wavering, and one trip up, bare as it was?

Led to Zakuro grabbing her arm, twisting it harshly as the other held her in place, pulling her to his searing body. He sneering, triumphant, but falter, angered when she spoke, still, despite being trapped against him.

(sun flames, he felt, coursing through her body)

"I lead an organization full of thieves, mercenaries, assassins," she said, breath rugged and heaving, but still, but still, she spoke of this, as if it were important to her, even with her arm still burning and tight in his hold, "and don't fucking think for a second I don't recognize that same fucking look in your eye."

("Who did you lose to make you this way?")

A face flashed, distant in his memories, one that he had repressed long ago, a memory that sparked rage and resentment, that led to numbness, to the apathy he needed to let go of his hometown, to burn the place that was the origin of such pain.

And he yelled out in anger, twisting her arm further while his other hand went for her neck,

Only to feel a sword, splurging with rain flames, pass through his body,

And in the next moment, a gun pressed neatly under his chin, glittering with sun flames.

A gun shot, and a gasp a relief from Ausiliatrice, shoving the heavy (still searing) corpse from her body, as that same corpse slipped from Squalo's sword.

"Motherfucker," she seethed, her arm dripping blood, her body covered in burns, and her other hand holding her side, "did you have to stab me too?"

Squalo sneered and spat, before putting his sword in the ground for stability, bleeding freely as well from the beginning of the battle, where he was the most heavily injured (where he had done his part, and then stayed back until she did hers).

A moment of the two sharing breath, falling in wretched puffs from their mouths and being recycled painfully through their lungs before he spoke.

"Fuck off."

* * *

Daisy hit the wall harshly, and gazed up fearfully at Meilin, baring her staff at him.

"Please, give up now," she told him placidly, "I don't like fighting children."

"I-I just want to know Uni's whereabouts," Daisy told her, nearly sniffling, "If you spit it out now, I may forgive you…"

Meilin's eyes narrowed at this, scrutinizing his strange actions. And in that moment, Daisy shifted, punching a ring into a box in his pocket. Frowning, Meilin shot back as a Sun Rhinoceros sprung from the box.

Her expression changed, however, as she brought her own box weapon into play; once her flames were inserted, a red panda burst forth, running straight to the rhino and jumping on the beast. Upon contact, the storm flames stuck, easily overtaking the sun flames due to its ferocity.

"He may not seem like much," Meilin called, stepping back to where her cousin and Tetsuya stood, "but Huan's storm flames are quite pure, and not to be underestimated. He can easily take down box weapons like yours," she explained as the rhino yelled out in pain, storm flames eating away at his body, "despite it being bigger than him."

She frowned however, seeing how Daisy look dismayed and nothing more, simply whining at the loss of his box weapon, as if mourning a toy.

Spikes berated what was left of the Rhino, and Kyoya stepped to his cousin's side, pushing her lightly with his shoulders as he stepped forward.

"Can you not," he said, glowering, "touch my prey?"

However, Meilin simply chuckled at this, causing Kyoya to scowl.

"Come on, Kyoya," she teased, bumping him with her hip lightly, causing him to scowl more, "I may be a mother now, but I can still fight and have fun."

"I want," Daisy said again, but changed somehow, strangely more interested in Meilin now, "to know where Uni is… I was a bit happy I found you guys right after I warped here, and that's why I went easy on you…"

Meilin and Kyoya shifted at this, suspicious and alert.

"But I'll get upset if you don't tell where she is," Daisy finished, and Meilin shifted once more, her fingers going over the holes in her staff uncertainly, uncomfortable with how the Funeral Wreath was wording things.

"The way you're talking," she addressed him, "It seems like you have something else to show, right?"

"I'll be the first to use this," Daisy said, still looking oddly at Meilin, "But I'll make sure that this is the first and last time you'll see one opening." He shifted again, pulling his shirt aside. As he did so, Meilin stepped in front of Hibari, purely out of habit.

"The box.." Tetsuya said behind them, "is buried in his body?"

"What an awful thing to do to a child," Meilin noted sadly, just as Daisy punched the ring into the box, completely transforming his body. Meilin was unnerved still, Kyoya even more so (and protective), even transformed, now in this reptilian like form, he continued to stare blatantly at Meilin.

"I'll beat it out of you," Daisy said simply, "and I guess I'll start with you, the most interesting." Eerily, he lifted his hand, as if reaching out to Meilin.

"The mother," he said simply, before flashing forward. In panic, Meilin lifted her staff to her mouth, blaring a few notes as she dodged.

Daisy blinked in confusion, his vision wavering.

"Bamboo…?" He trailed, faltering in his attack, "An illusion?"

"Although not strong, I can amplify them with my flute," Meilin said, before looking to her box weapon, "Huan, go!"

And the red panda shot forward blazing with storm flames and infecting one of Daisy's reptilian wings. He screamed out, as if in pain, but quieted, eerily grinning as he himself dissected the wing from his body.

"I was right… I already know," he said. The flaming wing-arm-hybrid moved and wrapped around Huan, who shrieked in response. "Although you only fight in a few universes," Daisy explained as the appendage regrew, spawning from where he had torn it off, "I already know your attacks. And luckily, you're far more predictable than some. Lucky me…" he trailed off, and again, Meilin repressed a shiver, receiving the same eerie look. She braced herself, seeing a flicker of movement, but then?

He was in front of her, merely centimeters apart.

"You said you were a mother, right?" He said, latching on heavily to that concept, "Then is this?" he asked, tearing his hand into Meilin's gut, "a mother's touch? A mother's embrace?"

Meilin gagged, blood spluttering on Daisy face, but he didn't seem to care, far too entranced with her reaction.

"My own mother was scared of me and put me away because of that," Daisy told her, his hand penetrating her stomach, taking hold of her organs, "Are you scared of me?"

"How disappointing," Daisy tutted, Meilin shaking and falling against him, "if you won't give me that, or tell me where Uni is, I might as well crush your organs."

He blinked however, and turn to his head curiously, just as Kyoya hit him harshly, separating Daisy and Meilin, and sending the funeral wreath crashing into the wall of the school.

Kyoya watched as Meilin fell, and barely looked at Tetsuya, who rushed to the woman as Kyoya stepped forward,

Meeting his opponent who dared draw the blood of his family, spinning his newly acquired weapons between his fingers.

"Can you stop going wild in the middle of Namimori Junior High?"

(Not that he would admit this offense)

* * *

"Yamamoto," Reborn addressed evenly, "you're really going back to the base no matter what, huh?" And for a moment, Yamamoto could have sworn there was resentment in the way the small hitman said it, but in the next moment? It was masked.

"I'll head back too," Dino said after Yamamoto gave his explanation, joining the group of those who were going back as well. Just to make sure, he told himself. But as he joined them, Bianchi looked at him, and smiled softly,

As if she knew.

"In case we get attacked," he assured Reborn, whose look was suspicious and unconvincing. Dino's expression softened, however, understanding.

( _I'll go in your place_ , he told his former tutor, _to make sure she's okay_ )

Reborn looked between Tsunayoshi, saying his goodbye and giving words of confidence, and to Dino and the group that would depart,

To check on the daughter he should be caring for.

He nodded, barely, at Dino, sending a message back.

(Because he made a choice, and could not go back on it now)

Chrome watched as the group departed with little noise, apart from Lambo's usual antics. Her eyes narrowed however, the air feeling uneasy around her. She lifted a hand, and moved her fingers, as if tangibly able to feel this difference. With a narrowed eyes, she shifted, looking to where Lambo was curling up to Uni and being obnoxious and loud and clingy, as usual, as usual,

But it wasn't usual, was it?

Chrome stepped forward, her trident materializing, causing the others to look at her, and some to even shout and voice their confusion.

( _Doubt is for the weak_ , Ausiliatrice had told her, beat into her, _and if you feel something, you know something? Act on it, before it's too late_ )

With a hardened eye, Chrome held her trident against the child, baring it against his neck.

"Please, step away from him, Uni," she said evenly, pushing further with the tip of her weapon. A moment, the group, her friends, her family, still confused and voicing this; but Chrome held strong with her resolve. Lambo look alarmed, and pushed back against the couch, childish voice complaining, until he realized that Chrome was not relenting, not fooled:

Cold laughter seeped from Lambo's lips as his very image morphed.

"How exciting to be found so easily…."

( _Illusions are just a game_ , Hecate had told her. _And what will you be after these lessons?_ the older woman had signed. _A winner_ , Chrome would respond)

And the illusionary battle began.

(or at least a formidable player)

* * *

Her umbrella, lace and intricate, swirled aimlessly, spinning on the shoulder she rested it on, open indoors (such a bad sign of luck, and yet, this was a woman who utilized that against those who dared to go against her, did she not?). Hecate sat, leaning comfortable in her chair, even having the audacity to smile pleasantly.

The figure sitting in opposition sat like stone, barely writhing every often against their restraints. Janus let out a ragged breath, and strained once before falling back into inexpressible pain;

Hecate grinned, and tapped her finger daintily, her focus entirely on the illusion she was casting on the former leader of the Cervello.

Both the women she had worked under valued Hecate's silent torture method greatly, and why wouldn't they? To be able to extract so much information, to ask impossible questions and received answers so easily without the small woman having to utter a word.

Not that she could in the first place, but didn't that just make Hecate remarkable? Didn't that make her unique? A trait illusionists needed, and dearly so. Hecate had been in the game long enough to know and perfect this, and even pass her own skills on to numerous others. Those who interested her; and oh, what interesting illusionists there were nowadays (like the young girl her new boss offered; and once, a young man in search of a cursed mask, willing to give his soul for illusionary prowess. A feat that Hecate admired, surely, but was not idiotic enough to attach her soul to a mask, tying her life to such a simple object, so easily broken. Torikabuto had lost his humanity long ago, and Hecate held no sympathy for him, former master or not).

And yet, despite this remarkability on her part, in her old age, she often found herself enamored by simplicity. And thus, when torturing, she went back to her roots when in search of inspiration for her sessions.

Why not make her victims relive what that man put her through, all those ages before?

(That was the _mercy_ she gave that man himself, was it not?)

Well, she admitted, seeing Janus wither once more, and even yell out this time, she could admit that perhaps she went a bit overboard with that man. Her eyes narrowed, however, and her hand trailed absentmindedly over the scars of her neck,

Perhaps she had gone a bit overboard when exacting her revenge that day. But was that not how Hera had found her? Screaming and crying over the twitching body of her father, the man's own brain liquidized and trailing out of his eyes, mouth and nose? And all due to her illusions bursting to their full potential at that moment.

(He had always said that the best illusionist drew from their own pain, which had been his reasoning behind his torture)

(but she had always known that was a lie, and her pain only got him off)

She blinked, drawn out of fond memories when Janus screamed out again.

"Fuck! Fine! I'll tell you!" they yelled out, voice rasped and inside of their cheeks bleeding, "God, I'm not a fucking fighter, I can't take this, okay?!"

And Hecate simply smiled placidly at this, waiting in her silence. A tilt of her head and Janus screamed again.

"Fuck! I left…" they seethed, body heaving against restraints, "because I found out about him…."

Hecate's eyes barely narrowed in question, and with another painful seizure of Janus's body, they continued:

"Fuck, I'll fucking tell you, stop it!" A moment, and Hecate allowed Janus to recover.

"He… Byakuran, that bastard… he brought that monster over, destroying that world," and Janus winced again more, just at the mere shift of Hecate.

"It's his trump card," Janus said, "and he took out a fuck ton of ships before the Vindice put that thing away. He wanted us to make a deal," and here a wince and another seizure, "Fuck! I shouldn't have given him the rings like _he_ said!" and this came out as almost a sob, and they once again fell against their restraints.

Hecate blinked once, and Janus screamed. A few more breaths, and after that quick warning, Janus continued:

"It's another version of him, but a fucked up one… if he releases that thing?" Janus said, then spit at the ground, blood dribbling from their chin, "… I was out as soon as I realized what that monstrosity could do, Trinisette be damned. That _thing_ , that monster…"

Hecate questioned with only sight title of her head. And Janus answered with a sneer:

"Ghost."

* * *

Chrome let out a breath, allowing her feet to pause momentarily, still heavily drained from her battle with Torikabuto (but she won, she won, she _won_ , and was only saddened by the fact that her tutor had missed it, and that her tutor _might not be alive_ )

But shaking these thoughts from her head, Chrome looked up, determined as she held her box weapon to her chest. Mukurou cooed from above, circling her before moving on towards the battle;

She had to get this Vongola Box to Mukuro, after all.

(She had done her part as the Mist of the Vongola, and now it was the other's turn)

She only stopped, hearing a vaguely familiar voice call her name:

"Chrome Dokuro!"

The girl stopped and looked over, seeing a woman with short, red hair standing above her on a hilltop. The woman sneered down at the younger girl, who was trying to fit the woman's face to a name, and that a memory.

"I knew it," M.M sneered as she jumped down and approached the girl, only to yell out as Chrome harshly grabbed M.M.'s hand just before it could cup Chrome's face. The woman retreated, holding her mistreated hand, and Chrome blushed, realizing she had twisted M.M.'s wrist purely out of instinct.

(Ausiliatrice would be proud, but Chrome was rather embarrassed about the situation)

"You're…" Chrome started, as M.M. stayed back, wary and perturbed by Chrome's behavior, not having expected the girl to retaliate. "You're M.M., aren't you?" Chrome asked curiously, "Do we know each other in the future?"

M.M. blinked, and then went slightly red, so surprised and thrown off by the young girl's demeanor, having expected such a young version to be meek, when in fact?

She felt strong, in such a welcoming way. And it annoyed M.M.

"Why – Why don't you just do us all a favor by delivering that box to Mukuro!" She reprimanded, face still slightly red and unsure of what else to say, "And go back to the past where you belong!"

Chrome blinked once, and begin backing away from the woman, a genuine, pure, expression on her face. M.M. scowled, turning and only making sure the girl was going in the right direction.

"Looks like that woman beat a spine into this version of her too," M.M. tutted, before turning only to yell one last warning as Chrome ran towards the battle:

"The Mukuro of this generation is mine! If you put your nasty little hands on him, I'll kill you!"

In which Chrome looked back one more with that same expression,

Further angering the woman.

* * *

Although curious about the interaction, Chrome put this behind her, forcing her legs to move faster despite her fatigue. She grew hopeful, seeing light ahead and hearing signs of battle,

Only for a cold feeling to wash over her, seeing an eerie figure, and feeling a completely draining presence, even at this distance.

"What…" she breathed out, "is that?"

A sudden urgency hit her, just as Mukuruo screeched out for her. Chrome dropped to her knees immediately, thanking Ausiliatrice for beating reflexes into her. She had barely dodged a beam of light (flames?) that would have hit her otherwise. She allowed her body to relax, before stiffening at the sound of a voice.

"And here I thought I would need to save you from that…"

"Mukuro!" She looked over, rising as the man approached her, easily. He was surprised when she leaned away when he tried to cup her face. He frowned at this, but recovered quickly.

"I apologize," he started, but was further surprised when she shook her head with light blush, shoving the box weapon into his hand.

"It's fine," she said, a bit shaky, but then evened her voice, "I'm sorry if I startled you but…" her eyes went to the battle field, and he followed. He frowned, seeing her point.

"Right…" he trailed off, but looked back at her, reviewing her fully this time.

(so much more like her future self than he had expected)

"Master, if you're done trying to manhandle a thirteen year old," Fran called from where he was fending off a beam from Ghost with a quickly draining the meager box weapon he held, "we have a losing fight to get back to."

Mukuro's eye barely twitched as he was reminded of his student.

"Of course," he said coolly, ignoring that jab (for now, but no doubt, he would exact punishment later). He turned back to Chrome with a smirk and eyes brimming with curiosity.

(what a curious combination the two made, with that woman bringing out the best in dear Nagi)

"Shall we?"

* * *

Watching as Tsunayoshi flew off to face Ghost, Uni's eyes trailed and changed; from soft hope to guilt, to regret. She glanced down at Reborn, and looked away, remorseful, when he noticed her gaze.

"… do you think?" Uni asked with a frown, her head falling as her fist tightened ( _this was my fault,_ she told herself, _they sacrificed themselves for me_ ), "Do you think they made it?"

In response Reborn titled his fedora, casting his face in shadows.

"She's my daughter, isn't she?"

* * *

While the others were focused on Yamamoto, Chrome was the first to address Ausiliatrice, being carried between Squalo and Dino.

(Chrome was the first to address her, to call out her name and go to her, but red eyes were the first to flash her way and meet abyssal, and did not break away until he addressed his second in command, making a snide comment about them being late)

Atalanta stood at Dino's side, the eyes of the lioness roaming and glinting, seeing Ghost and growling as she felt her own flames being sucked in. Ausiliatrice clicked her tongue and shifted, Chrome allowing her this, having taken over Squalo position, watching with concern as Ausiliatrice allowed Atalanta to retreat into her box; with their flames being drained there was no use at further attempts at healing. And yet? Ausiliatrice needed it, Chrome saw, biting her bottom lip.

Out of all of them, including Meilin, who sported bandages around her abdomen and had a hand on Tetsuya's shoulder behind the original group, Ausiliatrice was the most injured:

Her right arm look horrid, mangled, and small bits where skin showed on her body looked burned. She was singed, clothes and even some hair, and also had bandages wrapped round her midsection, but further up than Meilin. She was injured, heavily, and almost leaning completely on Dino, who was steadfast and solid, even while looking concerned at the ongoing battle (could they call it that? Ghost moved forward, undisturbed by their attempts to stop him. Was this even a battle at this point?).

Mukuro seemed to noticed her state as well, scowling when the rest of the group noted their arrival.

Even when backup had arrived? It was hopeless, all injured, and flames being drained.

But then?

Tsunayoshi came, sky flames blazing and pure, hands angled and framed; poised in his zero-point break through, what had stolen Xanxus's flames in their battle before.

(And their hero came, gallant. But this wasn't like the fairy tales she read as child, was it?)

He braced against Ghost, absorption versus absorption, a flash, and when it cleared?

Tsunayoshi stood alone on the battlefield. The children, the ignorant, cheered and celebrated, but the veterans?

They stayed alert and somber.

(Life was no fairy tale, and this?)

Byakuran came after that, smug and confident, with right to be so. With the revelation that all of the stolen flames had transferred to him? It seemed far more hopeless than before.

(This was war)

And yet, despite this, Tsunayoshi stood and braced himself, and bared his flames, bright and strong.

And the final battle began.

(And war was cruel and unforgiving, especially to the brave)

* * *

"We're old, aren't we?"

This was said with a breath of laughter, and Dino looked over to where Ausiliatrice leaned against him fully, her head on his shoulder as they watch the final battle.

"Hey," he said in mock warning, forcing a smile at such a desperate time, "you're older than me, you know?"

Her arm continued to bleed, and Dino prayed that the battle would end soon so her wounds could be completely tended to. But for now?

"They're the new generation," she told him, her abyssal eyes never leaving Tsunayoshi as he fought for his family, "and my father, Meilin's, the Vongola Ninth, they're the old generation."

"And," Dino asked, softly, following the flow of conversation (but wasn't everything soft, compared to the brutality of the battle happening in front of them?), "what does that make us?"

"The ones stuck in between," Ausiliatrice told him simply. She took a breath, and her body shuddered with this. Dino's arm tightened around her, holding her against him (giving her support).

"We're the ones," she said, "who have to leave it to the kids, not old enough to be out, but forced to sit on the sidelines anyway."

And she watched the rest of the battle with blurred vision.

(and pride, and pride, and pride)

(Leave it to the kids)

* * *

Haru and Kyoko were quick to cry at the first signs of Uni sacrificing herself. Ausiliatrice watched, Chrome now at her side and helping her to stand as Dino moved with the others, attempting to break the barricade that surrounded Tsunayoshi and Byakuran as they fought,

And Uni, who was engulfed in her flames, her own resolve, prepared to give her life for the Trinisette.

It was no surprise when Gamma, who obviously cared deeply for the young girl, broke through the small cracks they managed to make and went to his beloved princess.

Briefly, Ausiliatrice wondered what Uni was thinking of in her last moments.

("What was your mother like?")

And she nearly scoffed at her own ignorance, shifting her arm and allowing Chrome to turn into her shoulder, the girl not wanting to watch Uni die.

("What was yours like?")

Meilin was the one to take the mantle, pulling both Ausiliatrice and Chrome behind a tree as Tsunayoshi and Byakuran gave their last attack.

(With such anger, such brilliance that Ausiliatrice never expected from Tsunayoshi, such pure _beauty_ )

And just like that?

It was over.

* * *

Xanxus was the one to pull the trigger, sending a splendid blast of flames, engulfing Kikyo's head. And if he hadn't?

Ausiliatrice would have, especially if she had use of both her arms.

She had the audacity to barely click her tongue at Lussuria's lie of keeping the former Funeral Wreath alive; she and the other adults knew they would do no such thing. But the kids? They seemed to believe this little white lie, and it certainly didn't hurt to go along with it.

But, one thing was pleasant about the situation, which was seeing the Arcobalenos' return.

(But her father, what of him? Surely, he would return too, when this version returned to this timeline. And Ausiliatrice could wait for that, like she always did)

"F-Father…!" Ausiliatrice glanced over, seeing Meilin, tears brimming in her eyes, hands covering the lower half of her face, and eyes shining as she looked upon her long dead parent. A smiled graced her lips, witnessing her good friend approach her father and kneel gently, and as he spoke to her, reaching to wipe tears from her face. Ipin joined them as well, adding to the warmth of the situation. Even Kyoya approached, if barely, if in his own way, and all that was missing from the picture was Suyin.

A lovely scene, despite this missing piece.

Dino seemed to noticed her expression, and smiled down at her, just as warmly.

She made a face at this.

"Want me to open Atalanta?" He offered, not commenting as she pushed off of him lightly. Ausiliatrice grumbled lightly, moving slightly to lean on a tree instead.

"She gets sick when using others flames," Ausiliatrice said, her good hand going to her pocket and gentle turning the box.

"Really?" Dino said in slight disbelief. Ausiliatrice hummed in defense of her statement, but stiffened, if slightly, meeting someone's eyes.

If they hadn't known each for so long, it would have seemed as if Xanxus were simply walking away. But with his eyes slightly cutting and then flickering back?

"You going to talk to him?" Dino said with the barest trace of disapproval as Ausiliatrice released Atalanta and moved towards where Xanxus had gestured.

"You have an opinion about it?" She nearly challenged, her good hand on Atalanta, the lion's head turned back to look at Dino, questioning as well. He sighed, and leaned on the tree as she had before.

"I've known you long enough to be well aware that you do what you want," he said with small, airy smile (crooked, she noticed, as his smiles and grins usually were), "and I can wait until you get back."

She lifted her chin, almost coyly.

And walked away from him.

But Atalanta's gaze lingered, almost curiously,

Letting out a single chuff before following her mistress.

* * *

"I'm not going to fucking apologize twice… but," he trailed off, sneering, looking away from her. They stood in the forest, near where the battle had been. Each leaning on trees near each other, each with their box weapons out. Bester laid at his masters feet, head on the ground, but eyes on Atalanta, wary, but far more curious than cautious. Tail flicking behind him, and stripes barely present and easily put off as a soft trick of lighting.

Atalanta sat straight by her mistress, allowing long fingers to softly run across her head. Eyes only lingering on Bester momentarily, before focusing on Xanxus, brooding and arms crossed, and head turned to the side.

"You're not like him, you know," she told him, causing his head to snap back to her.

"I fucking know that!" he growled, eyes trailing again over her scar before looking away again. "But you should have fucking stopped me before…." Another angry trail of words, burnt and rugged and crisped and left to embers.

"I know," and this was said with a resigned sigh, and she knew the meaning behind his words. Not referencing that moment, but the entire relationship.

(You shouldn't have trusted me)

Had this been a mistake, they wondered?

To her, it was. To him? A regrettable experience.

But humans made mistakes, and humans forgive. But did that give her obligation to?

Bester barely stirred, and slowly, rose to sit upright. Atalanta barely made a noise at this, far more of a hum than anything else. The lion (liger, not caring to reveal with stripes) tilted his head if barely, tail flicking, just as Atalanta's was. Bester rose suddenly, as Xanxus pushed himself from the tree in such a similar manner.

He clicked his tongue, and walked away, coat billowing behind him, and box weapon walking at his side.

"Get that arm checked out."

Ausiliatrice barely let out a breath (amusement?), and responded:

"Don't tell me what to do."

* * *

"I swear, you're far too reckless. I suppose that's given, however," Mukuro tutted, inspecting the bandages of Ausiliatrice arm, "considering you're both a cloud and sun. A rather unfortunate combination."

"You don't have to protect me," she said, retracting her hand, but gently so. He gave her a pointed look.

"Don't tell me we're rehashing this conversation?"

Her look soured, and he chuckled lightly, but changed subjects.

"You did a splendid job with Nagi, in such a short amount of time," he brought up, which she snorted at.

"Others are too soft and don't know how to handle us."

"Us?" He questions softly, despite already knowing the answer. A moment, and then another change:

"Are you going to talk to your father?"

" _God_ ," she breathed out, rising from her seat and walking away, "you are like a mother."

"Oi, oi," he called, leaning back in her seat, danger intermixing with his playful expression, "I take offense to that. But we both know that you'll be happier if you do."

She nearly scrunched her nose, looking back at him.

"Am I wrong?" He challenged, holding a hand up leisurely in question. Her features softened suddenly however, and he sobered, reflecting this and unsure of the thoughts she was processing now (but could probably guess the subject easily, having witnessed this same expression many times)

"Sometimes," She said, a hand on the door way as she spoke and barely leaned into it, "some of the things you say…. I think he lives on in you."

Mukuro opened his mouth, unsure and typical suaveness gone in this situation, always in these situations with her thinking of him, because in these situations?

He was a child again, tortured and in pain with only the voice of a kind man that he killed to tether him and keep him from complete inhumanity,

He was a child again, covered in blood and in that hallway, letting her pass without doing a thing, despite knowing he could have helped.

(If he had lived, if he had lived, what would change in their lives? More happiness, certainly)

And her abyssal eyes saw this clearly, but she was kind enough to never say a thing.

"He lives on in you as well," he said back to her, regaining his lost composure easily, "far more so than me."

She smiled at this, dryly.

"You flatter me," she said flatly, and turned to leave.

And Mukuro smirked, watching as she left, and letting her go.

* * *

"Hey."

Reborn nearly cringed, knowing that the blunt greeting was freckled with awkwardness, something so renounced to the hitman. And yet, when dealing with his own daughter? He didn't know what to expect, even from himself.

However, as she turned her head to look down at him, her small smile and it's elegance seemed to forgive, if not be slightly amused by his attempt.

"I'll save you grace," she said, turning fully and facing him in the empty hallway. He had managed to catch her, just as they were preparing to go back to the past. "You don't need to say anything," she told him, causing his eyes to narrow ever so slightly.

"What if I _want_ to?" He challenged, but this simply amused her further. A small hum, and the turn of her heels. He found himself staring at her back once more, and once more, he was reminded of her mother

( _Esmeralda, Esmeralda, Esmeralda_ … how long, since he had thought about that name, in it's fullness, with all the complications it brought?)

"I'm not the one you need to be talking to," she told him, barely looking over her shoulder as she continued her walk. A pause, and then:

"Remember what I told you," she advised, "but until then?"

Reborn simply nodded a farewell to his daughter of this timeline, knowing that another version (her actual father, the one that belonged to this future) would replace him soon enough anyway.

He knew, after all, what he had to do now.

(She had to get the trait from someone)

* * *

"I wonder what awaits them when they get back, you know?"

"… cliché."

"Oh come on, Ausil – liatrice!" he tacked on, grabbing her hand just before she could poke him in the forehead. "Bad habit?" Dino tried, seeing her look. She huffed, and crossed her arms once more, looking at the group before them.

Suyin, having arrived with Argus earlier that day, was _enamored_ with the younger version of Kyoya. Ausiliatrice even spied the bare traces of a smile before he wiped it away immediately after making eye contact with her (was that the bare trace of a blush on his cheeks?). She allowed a smirk at this amusement, before spying another interesting figure.

Leaving Dino's side, she approached Chrome, standing rather lone and separate from the others as they said their farewells.

"Fair warning," the woman said as she approached, the girl blinking then looking over at Ausiliatrice, "I would be cautious if you want to approach my younger self."

"Miss Ausiliatrice…" Chrome marveled, blushing slightly, opening her mouth, lips barely quivering before shutting firmly. Her face reddened further and the girl bowed, a rather jerky movement. Ausiliatrice's eyes widened, and she even leaned back from the gesture, slightly shocked and unsure of what to do.

"Thank you for everything!" Chrome expressed, eye shut tight as she kept her body bent. Ausiliatrice blinked, processing, and then, smiled, albeit awkwardly. Softly, she bent to look at Chrome, and put a hand on her chin, lifting the girl to stand straight once more.

"I'm picky about my students," she said gently, and only went forward after Chromes was comfortable, giving a kiss on the forehead before retreating. "Know that."

Chrome grew red again, but smiled softly. She tensed however, as Hibari Kyoya approached, eyeing the girl almost warily before addressing Ausiliatrice.

"Carnivore."

She caught the end of the tonfa, turning to look over at the boy.

"How rude," She tutted. He barely huffed, and Meilin smiled softly from behind him, approaching with her daughter. Immediately, the small girl ran forward, smile bright as she reached up for Ausiliatrice. The woman calmly bent and met her with a hug, allowing the girl to latch onto her as she turned her attention back to Kyoya.

"I," he said, lifting his head and baring his neck proudly, " _will_ bite you to death when I return."

A moment, and Ausiliatrice let out a bare chuckle of laughter.

"That doesn't seem like my problem, now does it?" She said with humor. He huffed once more, and walked past her, only stopping at the outskirts of the group. Typical of him, he placed himself as far from them as possible, while still in vicinity of the machine that would take them back.

"Bye-Bye, Kyo!" Suyin called to him happily, leaning away from Ausiliatrice to see her cousin off.

Hibari Kyoya barely nodded in response.

"You should go to them as well," Ausiliatrice told Chrome, who had watched the entire interaction. The girl blinked, turning her eye back to her tutor, pink gracing her cheeks. She nodded, and then looked up to Ausiliatrice in question.

Ausiliatrice sighed, but it was amused; happy. And she allowed the girl to hug her before Chrome ran off to join the group.

And with a flash? They were gone, Tsunayoshi replaced immediately with his future self (the one who belonged to this timeline), and the others falling quickly in suit.

The group, immediately, expressed joy, each in their own way. Chrome, now 23, the age and height and body Ausiliatrice was used to in this time line, brightened immediately and approached, oddly enough mirroring her past self; looking in question before hugging Ausiliatrice tightly.

"Big Kyo's back!" Suyin shouted in glee, leaving Ausiliatrice's side and running to her cousin. The man allowed a bare smile as she approached, his hand outstretched to ruffle the girl's hair.

"I hope," Chrome said, fully letting her arms fall from Ausiliatrice, "my past self wasn't too difficult."

"Not at all," Ausiliatrice nearly purred, recalling and pleased with the same fire in this one's eyes as her younger self; a soft glow, but determined, a candle just giving enough light, and still with enough spark to start a fire.

"That's a relief," Chrome said with a graceful smile, such a passive showing of teeth, almost flirtatious and so different from how Ausiliatrice bared her fangs (each to their own, even between teacher and student), "But," she continued, looking over Ausiliatrice carefully, with such knowing and sharp eyes (ah, Ausiliatrice had forgotten this aspect about the girl. A mist after all, a fact many forget):

"You've… something's different isn't it?" Chrome asked, her eyes not leaving Ausiliatrice's. The older woman's expression barely faltered, only flickering for a single moment, but for Chrome? That was enough.

"You should talk to him," Meilin told her, causing Chrome to look over at the Chinese woman with a puzzled expression. Ausiliatrice responded with what many would describe as a _pout_. Her eyes flickered to where Dino was speaking to Gokudera and Yamamoto, explaining Tsunayoshi's absence more in depth (wanting to visit his old grave, the boss had told him, which was rather melodramatic of him, a fact that Ausiliatrice was quick to vocalize, much to Tsunayoshi's embarrassment).

"I don't want to."

"Ah, how childish of you, Ausiliatrice," Meilin scolded playfully. Chrome followed Ausiliatrice's gaze, taking in the details and understanding before Ausiliatrice looked away.

"You," Chrome advised her, "should do what makes you comfortable. But in the end," she added with a tilt of her head, and perhaps a glint of mischief, "I think it will make you happier, don't you think?"

Ausiliatrice's expression practically fell at this, causing Chrome's eye to widen and her own face to grow slightly pink, tinged with embarrassment, not knowing what she said that caused such a sudden reaction.

"I hate when you two do that," Ausiliatrice muttered darkly, nearly stalking forward and pulling Dino by his hood, away from his conversation with Gokudera and Yamamoto and into the hallway of the base.

* * *

"And so?" Bianchi asked, watching as Ausiliatrice made last minute preparations, "What did you talk about?"

"You're always annoying when it comes to these things," Ausiliatrice said with a sigh, turning to look at the woman. Bianchi smiled, but there was a tint to it, nearly making it a smirk.

"I always concern myself when it comes to love."

"It's not love," Ausiliatrice was quick to say, and then hesitantly looked away.

"Oh?" Bianchi responded, almost apologetically.

"… I told him my plans," Ausiliatrice continued, checking her weapons and magazine count in her bag, "that Olympus and the Varia will work together to eliminate the remaining Millefiore forces. Clean up."

"… spending time with Xanxus?"

It was a careful question, which Ausiliatrice took a pause to answer.

"…. We," she started slowly, "are good now. I think. But," she said with a roll her shoulders, "we won't be what we were… going to be before. You understand," she said this with empathy, looking back and meeting Bianchi's eyes,

And she gave a smile in response, soft and knowing.

"Some men never understand," Bianchi said solemnly, "but love? That's all that matters. Romantic or sexual–"

"To each their own," Ausiliatrice finished.

"And we don't want to fuck no matter how many men throw themselves at our feet, right?" Bianchi said, repeating the words that Ausiliatrice had said to her years before, when they had first found solace in the other and this trait they shared.

Ausiliatrice let out an almost hollow chuckle at this.

"But Dino?" Bianchi asked, quieter.

"He won't pressure me," Ausiliatrice answered, "and said that he would wait. No matter what."

(How strange, she thought in that moment, for the script to be flipped, to be the one who isn't waiting. Strange indeed, for her to be in this role, and unfamiliar; the one who was waited on)

"What chivalry."

And at this, Ausiliatrice snorted.

"I'll move and keep moving," Ausiliatrice said, as she closed her bag and made moves to leave. Bianchi went to her, and only after getting permission, she kissed both cheeks as a farewell.

"Like you always do," Bianchi finished for her friend. Ausiliatrice barely smiled at this before walking to the door, her heels clicking and echoing before she made her last statement, her hand barely lingering on the scar of her face before it dropped.

"I do what I want anyways, and I'm definitely not keen on being told otherwise."

* * *

Never had Ausiliatrice felt vulnerability so raw through another as she did when holding the baby in her arms. Suyin's large eyes stared up at Ausiliatrice curiously, as if she too recalled memories of a future that wasn't awaiting them. Ausiliatrice felt almost uncomfortable, holding the child in her arms, feeling like her hands weren't made for soft things such as this.

"Suyin was my new start," Meilin told her from across the table, mouth turned upwards softly, fully trusting Ausiliatrice with her child for some odd reason (technically, they'd only just met, and yet? They shared almost ten years, snippets of memories, of comradeship, of friendship between then, gained in just moments)

"Suyin, my daughter," Meilin said, with a light only a mother, only a father, only a parent, connected by blood or not, could have in their eyes, "is my chance at earning forgiveness from the long gone and dead."

".. getting knocked up didn't exactly solve my mother's problems," Ausiliatrice said dryly, moving to give Suyin back to her mother. The child whimpered, and reached for Ausiliatrice, but was quieted and settled for staring once she was in her mother's arms.

Meilin gave Ausiliatrice a flat look.

"That," she said, almost a huff, "is not what I meant and you know it."

"What I meant," Meilin began again, looking down softly at her child, "is that family provided opportunities. New beginnings. Something else to focus on, no matter if the relationship has years already behind it. You can create your own new start," she said, looking up from Suyin and to Ausiliatrice.

"My daughter is named after my mother, but that does not limit her to one legacy," Meilin explaining, and at this, Suyin gurgled, as if knowing they were speaking of her, "it simply honors another while making a new one. And after all this confusion–"

"And anger," Ausiliatrice inputted, looking away with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, that too, all these emotions berating you, emotions that you don't want? Something new to focus on might be welcomed. So what is your new start, Ausiliatrice?" Meilin addressed her.

Unsure, Ausiliatrice kept her eyes averted, eventually finding comfort in a window, looking at the mountainous landscape, mist covered and thick with confusion,

But then?

An outbreak, a sudden ray, and Ausiliatrice witnessed the moisture curl back and retreat and form into something for more recognizable, morphing with rays until it was reminiscent of a Renaissance painting; something so familiar to Ausiliatrice, but posh and never within reach of to her fingertips.

But at this moment?

The sunset seemed more tangible than ever.

* * *

 _"Some people look at sunsets as the end of something beautiful that once was: the day. Others see it as simply a new beginning to a different but equally beautiful thing: the night. Perspective, my darling. It's always perspective."_

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Oooooh my god I feel like screaming, it's finally over. I can die now. Thank god. Well, I'll see you all next chapter when I am revived from the sheer joy of moving onto the last two arcs. Goodbye sorry if there are a lot of mistakes, I am so tired and kind of rushing to post this, since I want to get this out before going somewhere?_

 _-Evenly_


	33. Lesson 33: To Warrant

**Chapter 33: Her Mother Taught Her to Warrant**

* * *

 _"I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scared her. She was the type to like things that are concrete, like the ocean. Something you could point at and know what it was ... And I think that's why she struggled with love. She couldn't touch it. She couldn't hold on to it and make sure it never changed."_

 _- **Carrie Ryan**_

* * *

"Leaving so soon?" Meilin asked, leaning against the doorway and watching as Ausiliatrice gently lifted Suyin's arms; playing with the child with such a softness, such a _famine_ ,

But Suyin whimpered, so quick to change from happy and giggling to desperate and needy as Ausiliatrice retreated with one last and gently poke of the baby's forehead. Ausiliatrice shouldered the small bag she had brought with her, and passed Meilin as the older woman moved to pick up her fussing child.

"You can stay longer you know," Meilin told the other woman as she picked up the baby, bouncing her child lightly in an effort to comfort. Ausiliatrice sent a look back, apologetic, while paradoxing that.

"I've received what I came here for," she said simply, and sent a nod of acknowledgement, "So thanks, for that."

"What are your plans?" Meilin asked, following Ausiliatrice as she made her way to the front door, still bouncing Suyin. But the child was calmer now, if only slightly, entranced still by Ausiliatrice, staring at the dark-skinned woman with wide eyes as they followed her long gait.

"Returning to Dino?" Meilin asked, almost carefully.

"Eventually," Ausiliatrice admitted, and Meilin was surprised by the easiness of the statement (the almost callousness of it), "But first," Ausiliatrice said, opening the door and barely pilfering her hand back;

A goodbye to both an old and new friend.

"A have a few errands to run."

* * *

Often, Chrome was the one entrusted to run errands. Or perhaps, entrusted was too kind of a word. Still, it was an activity she didn't mind, and now?

She used it to better herself, with both her observation and her illusions.

Both the women who were kind enough to teach her (to better her), stressed the importance of always being keen and aware of your surroundings. And Hecate often told her to use public outings as practice, as a game to better her skill in illusion.

 _As you walk_ , Hecate had signed to the younger girl, _notice those around you, notice everything, notice what makes it real_ , she had stress. _And then? Copy it. Mimic what makes reality just that._

And Chrome did, and Chrome watched. As she checked out at the counter, she noticed the way the cashier's chest rose and fell delicately, she noticed the couple behind her speaking as if others weren't listening; she witnessed ignorance and then sudden realization of others, and vice versa. And she thought. She mused on ways to incorporate these little moments (because that's all life was, wasn't it? Contrived completely of moments) into her illusions in order to bring flesh to them. In order to mimic life and make it more believable than it was.

She watched as well, for reasons of safety.

 _Paranoia is for the ignorant,_ Ausiliatrice had told her, _awareness is for the prepared_.

She tried to take in every small movement, and translate that to intentions. She saw the slump in which the cashier reverted to as soon as she walked away, tensing again as the next customer moved forward; annoyance and then acceptance for their job. She noticed the stiffness in which the manger walked and the tightness of the smile he sent her, and by no means did she miss the way in which his eyes lingered on the hem of her skirt and trailed to her stomach, then breasts, and only found the decency of embarrassment when meeting her eye.

And she certainly noticed the man that had been following her for the past few blocks. Checking in a reflection nearby, her eye barely narrowed, seeing that he was wearing an unfamiliar school uniform. A guess, remembering chatter of new transfer students at Namimori, and she allowed herself a small possible victory. And yet?

He unnerved her, and she couldn't find it in herself to know why.

Ausiliatrice would have confronted him, surely, in her own way. But Chrome was not her tutor, and this was fine.

Instead, she stepped to the side, and cast an illusion, disappearing the second a taller man covered her from her stalker's line of sight. In that moment, her illusion shifted, to the image of an elderly woman she had noticed earlier. And with her new mirage, she watched as the man (boy? He was much younger now that he was closer) looked around in confusion before giving up.

And still, she waited, and she ambled, keeping her elder facade until she was steps away from her home.

Perhaps, she thought as she walked in (her disguise dissipating to mist and its remains curling around her returned, young figure), she could ask boss about these new transfer students?

The importance of information was something both her tutors had highlighted in their lessons, after all.

(And Chrome was grateful)

* * *

Dino Cavallone sat at his desk, its surface covered in paper per usual, but ignored these in favor of the screen of the laptop that sat atop of them. Momentarily, his eyes flickered to a card in particular, an all too familiar emblem on it, and momentarily, he was tempted to pick it up and read its contents, still nearly baffled by its message.

(So soon, so soon)

And in an even briefer thought, he wondered what _her_ thoughts would be on this delicate subject.

(Knowing her, but he questioned if he truly did even with these new memories of a future they would never live, she would disapprove as he did. But she would show this much more blatantly as him, not being shackled by such politics. And he admired her for that, truly)

Instead, temptation folded neatly and put away in the back of his mind, he returned to his work, only looking up when the door opened, and then looking again, almost falling out of his chair as he pushed it back suddenly and tried to rise, shocked surprised,

As Ausiliatrice sauntered into his office, walking as if they hadn't received ten years of memories (of moments shared, but just how many moments?) merely weeks ago.

She raised a simple eyebrow, seeing his dishevelment at her entrance. He stared for one moment, and then caught himself, sputtering:

"You're back?"

"You didn't think I would be?" She questioned, almost dared in response (in offense, did he _offend_ her when he doubted her?).

(of course, because it was a matter of loyalty, a matter of trust, and Ausiliatrice held those in such a high respect)

Awkwardly, he jerked, and bent to pick the few papers he had disrupted in his surprised, and just as awkwardly, he tried to speak.

"Hey, what happened in the future," he stumbled, messily stacking the papers before putting them down, looking to the side before looking to her (meeting abyssal eyes and not flinching, not looking away), "I just want to say–"

"Look," she interrupted, harsh, but looking away from him in that moment; a sign of vulnerability almost, hesitation:

"Whatever we were in that future? That isn't us now, is that clear, Cavallone? I am _not_ that Ausiliatrice," she said, looking back, eyes narrowed as she stared him down, "And I'll be damned if I'll let another version of me decide how I feel. Crystal?"

"Clear," he said with a (forced) crooked grin, raising his hands in mock innocence. He allowed her to walk past him, taking her usual position on the windowsill behind his desk. He sat again, looking to his mounds of paper and screen on his laptop, and once it was clear the woman had said what she needed to?

(To Ausiliatrice, that was the end of that. But she had always considered herself a simple woman or few words)

They fell into a familiar routine, of Dino working and Ausiliatrice placidly sitting behind him, her eyes either out, to the garden, or scanning any book that found its home in her hand. Everything seemed back to normal, reverted to a time before her leave of absence.

(But was it? Could this possibly be normal to them now?)

Dino spoke again, not shattering this peacefulness, but nor did he discard it gently.

"Seriously, Ausiliatrice," he said, looking up and turning back to her. Her eyes flickered to him, but her reflection in the window looked away, "Where you all this time? I mean, you didn't really miss much, except for the invitation, but still," he said, moving his arm and picking up a note, distinct with the symbol of the Vongola.

"Running errands," she said, pushing off and leaning forward, eyes alight and intrigued, "One that will benefit you…" she muttered before leaning further, easily snatching the card from his hands.

"Me? What do y–"

"Already?" She said with a slight frown. Dino reflected this, and leaned back, giving up on his inquiry, and accepting her decision to move onto to this subject.

"Nono received memories from the future as well," he informed her, and noticed her eyebrows raise slightly, "and I guess, from that, he made his decision."

"He's still too young."

And with the finality, assuredness, and _sadness_ in which she said this?

"I know."

He couldn't help but agree.

* * *

Loud laughter held the air of the office hostage, before falling silent suddenly, squished and subdued as soon as Superbi Squalo processed Xanxus's expression, and the fact that it _didn't_ change when Squalo had laughed at his boss's statement.

"You're kidding. You're _really_ going to go?"

Xanxus's fingers moved uncertainly through the air as red eyes scrutinized his second in command.

He really, _really_ wanted to shoot the swordsman, or at least spew a few bullets in his direction for the tone in which he said this, and _the fact that he laughed at him._

But he restrained himself, and made a _point_ of it. Not without glowering, and nearly growling as he sneered.

"Cavallone's going?" Xanxus asked, his hand moving to his glass instead of his gun.

"Fucking course he is," Squalo spat, eyes narrowing, and then widening again, seeing reason behind his boss's decision. And immediately, he berated it:

"You're an idiot you know?" And immediately, he dodged the glass thrown at him, cursing loudly, "Fuck off, shitty boss! Come with us if I fucking care, but I'm not going to be the bastard responsible for when you kill the shitty brat!"

Xanxus scoffed, a small and gruff puff of air between lips and teeth, before his eyes settled on the invitation once more. Lifting it in his hand, he reviewed the Vongola Crest once more,

Before the mere paper turned to ashes in his hand, and shifted gently through his fingers.

(What a paradox, what he wanted to prove to her)

* * *

He had found out where she lived.

Chrome paled, stepping back, cold seeping from her stomach and extending as Ken rejoiced at the sacks of mysterious groceries that appeared on their door. And the second time it happened?

Chrome had decided it was time to take charge, no matter how much it went against her character.

(It's what Ausiliatrice would do, wasn't it?)

"Please stop stalking me," Chrome stated, appearing behind Julie Katou just as the image of her he had been following flickered out of existence. There was almost hesitation, and then he jumped, turning, startled by her sudden presence. His eyes widened, and his demeanor only hinted at embarrassed for being caught before he regained his swagger.

"Hey, it's you!" He said, putting an arm behind his head, almost as if posing to make himself more appealing, "I've seen you around, you know? You're pretty cute~" He leaned forward, but was surprised when she did not lean away from him, as he thought she would.

Barely, he noted she was shaking, but spoke confidently (fiercely?) despite this.

"I know you've been sending us food, and although it's a kind gesture," she said evenly, keeping eye contact the entire time, despite obviously wanting to look away, "please stop. It's for the wrong reasons… and," she wavered, looking away and nearly shouting her last part, "It's creepy!"

Quickly, she ran past him, hugging her bag to her chest as she did so.

Julie Katou blinked, and barely smirked, eyes trailing after her. And then, momentarily, his demeanor shifted, far more confidence, enticing, achievement in these respects as opposed to the pathetic try at suaveness Julie Katou tried to present himself with:

Daemon Spade allowed his own familiar smirk to play across Julie's lips, watching the girl leave.

"Looks like our little puppet," Daemon purred, eyes alight, "is far more interesting than she appears."

* * *

The next day, groceries appeared at the door once more.

Chrome stepped back, feeling sick as she clutched her school bag close to her chest, closing her eyes tight, and growing deaf to Ken's whoops of joy again.

She turned from her friends, letting out a shuddering breath.

(Where was Ausiliatrice, she wondered, and when would Chrome see her again?)

* * *

"Although they originally went to eliminate the threat to Tsuna," Romario read the report Reborn had faxed to them, "The Giegue's bodies were found in unrecognizable shapes, a large amount of blood covering the area. The bodies themselves were covered in either jagged cuts or strange puncture-like wounds, and the investigation has yet to reveal any more information on the attacker."

Dino shifted in his chair, frowning Ausiliatrice knew, even with his hand covering the lower part of his face. It would be foolish to ask if there were any survivors, just from the few details the report gave them. Ausiliatrice hummed, her own face a placid picture, with concern merely acting as a light filter to its serenity.

"The Giegue were formidable," she gave her opinion, "and for someone to dispose of them like that?"

A silence, a beat, nearly a melody compared the grimness of the news, and she spoke again, but this time, less professional than before, emotion barely lacing her words:

"They're strong. I've worked with them before. They're the last resort, the professionals, the ones to get jobs done and done right. And yet?"

"Massacred," Dino continued, having already read the rest of the report before sharing it with her, "Their own boss and his two oldest children."

Another moment, hollow and prayer like. Ausiliatrice scowled, rising and leaving the room.

"He's too young for this," she stated, and the two men did not need clarification to know who she was referring to.

* * *

"Have you managed to talk with your daughter yet?" Timoteo asked Reborn with smiling eyes, looking over his tea cup before gently placing it back on its saucer.

"I was under the impression that we would continue to speak about my student, Ninth," Reborn said, almost as a warning. They sat across from each other in the Ninth's current penthouse, where he and his guardians were residing during the inheritance ceremony preparations. Once Tsunayoshi had left, Timoteo had insisted on privacy to speak with his old friend, and his guardians obliged, leaving their boss alone with the hitman.

The old man smiled warmly despite the abrasiveness of the statement.

"Can't I inquire about your family, my friend?" He said, but there was a slight tease in his voice. Reborn's lip barely turned up at this.

"We haven't gotten the chance," he stated stiffly, "to sort things out. Have you and your son talked?"

A blatant jab back, but Timoteo took this in stride, taking another sip before answering.

"Not quite, I'm afraid," he answered with a light shrug, turning to look at the array of potted plants just in the other room with a soft expression, "but I will admit that your daughter must have made some head way with him."

Reborn tutted, questioning before bringing his own drink to his lips

"And what makes you say that?"

The ninth answered easily (smugly?), just as Reborn took a drink:

"The fact that Xanxus is coming to the Ceremony."

(Reborn, the greatest hitman in the world, _did_ _not_ almost spit out his coffee, _nor_ did he choke on it)

(The Ninth Boss of the Vongola certainly did not burst into hardy laughter upon witnessing this)

* * *

He had the audacity to introduce himself, and even used the thin veil that they were from allied families as a weak excuse to tether them.

"That…" Chrome wavered, then expressed strongly, "doesn't excuse your earlier behavior."

"Oh, come on," Julie said, putting on arm on the wall her back was to (trapping her, leaning towards her, limiting the amount of space between them), "We're in this together right? And hey, maybe after the ceremony, we can go on a date? You don't have a boyfriend," he said, leaning even closer, their faces almost touching, "do you – ack!"

Chrome stomped his foot, and in the moment he reacted, she pushed him away and ran, only looking back to see him staring after her, one leg bent so he could hold his offended appendage.

"Feisty and cute, huh~?" He called after her, with that same eerie smile.

(And once again, she her stomach churned sharply)

* * *

She received a phone call, late at night from her father.

 _"Are you and Dino here?"_

"Just got in," Ausiliatrice said, causing the Cavallone boss himself to look over at her. She received a moment of dead silence in return. And then, Reborn spoke:

 _"I need you to look at a crime scene for me."_

(What morbid father-daughter bonding time)

(But it fit, in a way)

(in many)

* * *

"And Yamamoto," Ausiliatrice said, her expression completely neutral as she stooped, abyssal eyes reviewing the blood covered, blood splattered locker room, "was the one who was attacked?"

Reborn nodded, dipping is fedora down, shifting his chameleon slightly. She barely clicked her tongue, thinking of Squalo briefly, then refocused on the scene at hand.

"This wasn't planned," she stated, causing Reborn to look over at her from where he had be evaluating markings on the floor.

"Explain."

"The splatters," she said, pointing as she rose to her full height, "they're violent, and large and arcing; his body was torn open fast, almost spinning the blood–" and Reborn didn't have the humility to wince at her wording "–a split decision, made entirely in the moment."

"And you know this?"

"Hunch," she admitted, "although it could be the nature of the weapon they were using. It's..." she trailed of, looking at the blood once more with a tilt of her head, "drill like?"

He could accept that, and would have made a similar observation himself if he hadn't been preoccupied with another detail.

"Do these markings mean anything to you?" he asked as she walked to where he was standing, careful to not step and tarnish the art of the blood splatters around them. She tilted her head, and bent her knees again, even lowered, still far above him.

"Handwritten," she muttered, "and marked out" she added, her eyes flicking above, and narrowing.

"I wonder?" he mused with such a cold linger of question, "Is your Japanese good enough to translate it?"

She blinked, and then scowled, answering her father:

" _Sin_ ," she spat, a far more familiar word to her. Of course, she would be familiar with that word, just as she was familiar with the stench of blood that surrounded them.

(a shame though, that it was the blood of a child)

(so young, so young)

* * *

"She looks ravishing, don't you think?" Hera murmured, hers eyes on Ausiliatrice, easily spotting her across the vast sea of Mafioso that separated them (such dangerous, lethal people, but ah, she was one of them). A bare flicker, and Hera saw Dino Cavallone as well, right by Ausiliatrice's side, the two even leaning close to speak to one another. "They make a lovely pair, don't they?"

Argus remained silent, standing by Hera's side.

The true leader of Olympus hummed delightfully, and turned on her heel to enter the building. Argus glanced at her, eyes slightly narrowed before following faithfully.

"You're wondering," Hera stated, eyes scanning the room until she spotted the Vongola Ninth, carefully planning what words she would say to him, her fingers barely twitching and her arms barely moving under her long sleeves as she thought through the movements she would made when she approached him, "why I didn't speak to her?"

Argus nodded once. Hera let out a light trill of laughter.

"I'm sure," she woman stated, barely brushing her hair into place, perfecting an otherwise perfect persona, "that after all the time she spent with us recently? It would be wise to give her some space."

(Hera knew best of all, it was unwise to pressure such a lioness)

(to corner such a beast)

* * *

"I think you're scaring people off," Dino barely whispered to Ausiliatrice, who nearly scowled at him in response.

"Just the women who are ready to throw themselves at your feet," she shot back, her eyes cutting again to two prime examples, who immediately quieted once she looked their way.

"Come on, Ausiliatrice,"" he said, laughing a bit and nodded greetings at others as they passed through the crowd, "What about the men that are eyeing you? You trying to ward them off as well?"

"Any man who is intimidated by me is a man unworthy of my attention," she said with a sultry flip of her hair. Dino blinked and grinned awkwardly.

"I don't know how to respond to that."

She clicked her tongue, her eyes roaming once more before catching familiar figures. Jerking Dino's arm, she led them in the direction she had spotted the group, and soon enough Dino took the lead, happily noticing what she had.

"Been well, young ones?" Dino greeted the children, smoothly smiling as he made their presences known.

"Dino!" Tsuna exclaimed smiling immediately, and then in turn noticed the woman who followed him, "and Ausiliatrice!"

(A spark of irritation flashed through her, seeing eyes settle on her cheek, as if expected the burn mark to be present; but she calmed herself, and let children fall to their faults while they still could)

Chrome perked immediately, whipping her head to the woman. Ausiliatrice narrowed her eyes, seeing Yamamoto Takeshi's figure barely waver in that moment. Nodding greetings to the others as Dino held Tsuna's attention, Ausiliatrice approached Chrome, hesitating, looking to her, then putting a gentle, if awkward, hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Keep focus," she told her, "remember what Hecate taught you. We," Ausiliatrice explained, gesturing with her head to Dino, after Chrome's slightly surprised, but confused expression, "received memories from our future counter parts as well."

Chrome blinked, and then? A bright smile, the girl practically glowing.

"That," Chrome said, looking to the ground, and clutching her collapsed trident to her chest, "makes me happy!"

Yamamoto Takeshi laughed as well, clapping a hand on Ausiliatrice's shoulder in agreement, and in that moment, Ausiliatrice reacted as if it had been the real boy (with a frown and a light, but efficient twist of his wrist, in which he reacted just as the real Yamamoto would). She blinked, then glanced back to Chrome, who had her own tinted smile (a mist, a mist, a mist, people often forget).

"Good," Ausiliatrice said with a nod of approval.

And Chrome beamed further, channeling this to further fabricate this illusion she was holding, and holding _well_.

Their moment, however, was ruined by a loud voice, distinct and familiar, one that caused Ausiliatrice to smirk, despite herself:

"VOOOI! It's been a while, scum!"

And they turned to see the Varia, standing proud and powerful, parting the large crowd and dispersing it as others realized just who they were in the presence of.

"Squalo," Dino greeted easily, stepping in front of a nearly cowering Tsunayoshi, "You really don't change, huh? Where's Xanxus?"

Dino has said this with a certain lightness, but after the question?

An intense, heavy and heated presence hit them, and Squalo was roughly pushed to the side,

As Xanxus strode forward, red eyes immediately meeting abyssal. They shared a moment, but then,

With a shrill shriek from Tsunayoshi, Xanxus looked his way. The boy's legs quaked, and his guardians stood alert and present despite their wills being tested as well. Xanxus's eyes narrowed as he looked down on Tsunayoshi and approached the boy, sneering.

"Trash," he addressed, almost a spit, and suddenly, he held the front of Tsunayoshi's shirt, pulling him closer. Dino's hand went to his jacket, but Ausiliatrice stepped forward, stopping him. A look, shared between them, and Dino lowered his hand, but frowned, concerned, and deeply so (but he trusted her, didn't he?).

"Don't," Xanxus seethed, their faces merely inches apart, "fuck this up. If you do? I'll be the one to pull the fucking trigger, you got that?"

Tsunayoshi shook, violently, and this seemed to translate to a nod of sorts, and promptly,

Xanxus dropped the Vongola Tenth.

The boss of the Varia took a breath, and his hands went to straighten his tie, his eyes closed and his face looking collected. A snap, and his eyes were open, staring right at Ausiliatrice.

"I need to talk to you," he said evenly, and she lifted her chin in response.

"Fine."

And she moved forward, and he watched her for a moment, allowing her to lead before following, easily falling into step with her as they walked away from the group.

"What.." Tsunayoshi breathed out, leaning against Dino for support, "was that about?!"

Dino frowned, watching them go with uneasy eyes. Squalo clicked his tongue, and turned with a sneer, moving on to interrogate his student (not that he would ever admit to thinking of him as that, especially to that woman) about his training.

The conversation between the tenth generation and the Varia went as well as it could, until Mammon spoke to Chrome, with a surprising amount of praise.

"You're doing remarkably well," the Arcobaleno informed her, floating near her shoulder, "You even fooled Squalo, who's usually keen with these things."

Said swordsman blinked and turned, looking to Mammon then to Yamamoto. Another blinked, and then a scowl, eyes lighting with anger and suspension. Dino heard as well, and mirrored this reaction, or at least, a far more water down version.

However, instead of turning their suspicion and questions to Chrome, like the young girl though they would, and was now mentally preparing herself for,

They turned to her boss instead.

(Which, really, with Tsunayoshi's luck?)

(He should have expected this)

In the end, Chrome only felt a little bad as her boss was interrogated so harshly by the two men.

* * *

They met Kyoya on their way to a more secluded place to talk:

"Carnivore," he hissed, eyes narrowing and immediately fixating on Ausiliatrice. Pleasantly, she smiled, and nodded a soft greeting, all while her eyes were glinting.

(Interested, curious to witness how much he had grown _herself_ )

However, despite her being prepared to catch the tonfa he immediately tried to bite her to death with, another hand, rugged and tanned and scarred, met Hibari's metal instead.

"Back off, baby predator," Xanxus sneered, holding Kyoya's tonfa, his palm heating the metal so that it hinted at red, "She's mine."

And response, Hibari nearly growled.

"Wrong. Not a single syllable right." At these words from the younger, the two stared off, animosity livid between then, but it waned, challenged by another dangerous intent.

"I'll put a bullet in both your heads if you keep playing this _ignorant_ game," Ausiliatrice said darkly, so suddenly annoyed, arms crossed as she waited, her heel barely tapping. Red and steel flickered to her, before meeting again in challenge.

Hibari was the first to move, yanking his weapon away from Xanxus's grip and scowling. Xanxus smirked, looking down at the boy, and only frowned when Ausiliatrice rolled her eyes, and addressed the boy almost softly.

"I'll talk to you after the ceremony, Kyoya," she said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder before walking past him. Moments too late, he shook his shoulder abrasively before snarling and turning from them.

"Brat," Xanxus insulted once the boy was gone. Ausiliatrice looked back at him, not even having to express his hypocrisy with words. They lulled in their footsteps, finding a desolated balcony. The few that were there cleared out the instant they saw Xanxus and recognized him.

(naturally, whispers had followed them through their trek, and unwanted eyes as well; but they were used to this, they were used to this, and although Xanxus was used to reacting with anger and violence, he kept himself in check)

She turned on her heel, leaning casually against the railing,

And waited.

(A motif, a motif, a motif)

He grumbled, looking over the small forest that the castle rented for the ceremony overviewed, leaning as well, trying to form words before speaking, think before acting as opposed to what he usually tended to lean towards.

(it was a preference, completely; Xanxus was intelligence, impressively so, but tactfulness to think typically didn't give him the rush of anger, the lure of wrath, the beauty of boiling blood he desired)

"Fuck this," he stated, "I'm just going to say it: that bastard from the future who fucked up your face? That ain't me, and don't think for a second I'm anything like him, got it?"

She blinked, lightly surprised by this

(which was ridiculous, a part of her thought, because they were a like weren't they?)

(the same, he'd still like to think)

She opened her mouth, and with far more grace than him, spoke:

"I'm sorry," she said with difficultly, "for… smacking you." Almost, it felt childish to say. She continued, clearly annoyed with this submission (but him, he couldn't keep the hint of smugness, expressed through the small twitch of his lip yearning to lift upwards),

"That was only _half_ for you," she said to him, crossing her arms and looking out as he did at the beginning of this conversation (but now? He kept his eyes entirely on her). He blinked, and waited, but it seemed that was all she had to say on the subject.

Mediocre at best, but neither was adept with humility.

(Both were faulted with pride)

With their talk clearly over, they moved back into the building, just as others were gathering for the beginning of the ceremony. He sneered at this, his fingers writhing, then going to straighten his tie, in need of something to strangle, and being keen to keep his hands away from where he had stashed his guns on his body. But feeling her eyes on him, knowing this, riveted with the fact the her attention was on him and solely him?

He willed himself calm. A breath, and then more.

He still had a point to prove to her after all.

(he hadn't said all he needed to, in the end)

* * *

The Inheritance Ceremony went as expected:

That being it fell into chaosed shambles when the Vongola Ninth attempted to pass the Sin of the Vongola to the Vongola Tenth.

(too young, too young, Ausiliatrice remembered thinking in that moment, dismayed, but accepting as she was forced to be the moment she was born, before even tangibly realizing this fact)

The Shimon threw the ceremony into bloodied chaos easily enough, and almost impressively in Ausiliatrice's opinion. They had been prepared, it seemed. But one thing they, no one could ever prepare for, with awareness of this factor or not?

Xanxus's wrath.

(Which was always such a beautiful, nearly holy thing to witness)

Sure, Kozato Enma had done quite the number on Tsunayoshi and his guardians before Xanxus and Ausiliatrice arrived,

Chrome's state being the thing that sent Ausiliatrice into action, attacking immediately in cold rage when seeing her student injured so badly (not that is showed favoritism; Hibari Kyoya's body, physically, could stand far more than the fragility that was Chrome Dokuro, needing illusions to sustain her organs, skin pale and bruising so easily, and Ausiliatrice knew this best, having trained the girl with such harsh methods),

But Xanxus's rage? It was far from cold.

(It was searing and lava-like, magma before this, having been carefully built behind a calm façade, but now?)

The Shimon's most damning mistake was giving Xanxus a good and valid reason to be so violent and display his rage in all its glory.

The tall girl, Adelheid? Proved to be a troublesome adversary, but in her not yet strengthened equip, her glaciers shattered and melted beneath Xanxus's flames, leaving Enma to messily fend off the Varia boss.

Ausiliatrice aired with more caution than Xanxus, recognizing immediately these as unfamiliar flames, and protecting the children from a distance as their allies pulled them aside,

But the moment Ausiliatrice saw one of theirs pick Chrome up, daring to lay a hand on _one of hers_?

Ausiliatrice bared her fangs and fell to her bloodlust, and what Adelheid witnessed when she looked in their direction,

(it was dangerous, with woman like them, to threaten those that they loved)

She yelled out, lifting an arm and sending waves and spikes of ice, which Ausiliatrice moved back to dodge, cursing loudly, seeing the man escape with her student, _one of hers_ , a child she had taken under her wing, and the bastard had the audacity to laugh, and grin, and send a wink to Ausiliatrice, seeing her rage and finding amusement in it,

Which in the end, it was Ausiliatrice's own fault, feeling blind anger, and then sudden splitting pain on her leg, causing her to yell out, and jerk suddenly from when she had been trying to retreat back, grabbing her injured leg (now numb, why was it numb, why was it cold, why was it _burning_?),

only to find her entire foot and calf encased in the strange ice the girl have been using to fight.

Her scream, far more guttural and angry than one that spoke of pain, was what distracted Xanxus, if just for a moment, looking back and seeing Ausiliatrice

( _vulnerable_ , just for that second, seeing one of hers taken from her when she was reduced to _nothing_ )

Trapped and in pain,

And that moment was all it took for the Shimon to fall back and make their escape in a flurry of sand.

(it took so little time for cowards to flee)

He yelled out curses, shooting emptily in wrath before turning quickly and moving to her, immediately kneeling to inspect her leg. Already, he could see skin tearing and blood beneath the glassy surface, evidence of her attempts to tear her leg away.

"Just fucking shoot it or something!" she seethed, as close to begging as he believed she was ever to get, "They fucking _took her_ , and I need to go after her, dammit!"

It was almost dizzying to see her so distraught while his mind was clear and empty of his earlier rage, replaced with amazement and surprise because of her. And perhaps, hearing her like this, hearing the strain in her voice and the mere beautiful _desperation_ of it,

This is what caused him to listen to her, and lift his guns, angled them, and thinking, narrowing his eyes,

(because what if this didn't work? What if he fucked up again? But she had asked him too, didn't she? She wanted his help, his hand, his flames, his _wrath_ , she needed him in this instance)

But he stopped, and immediately she stiffened, hearing a new voice enter the fray of chaos, carrying above the frantic and hopeless murmurs of the others who fell to injury, who were subject to loss,

(Realization sunk into her and Ausiliatrice felt selfish, for thinking she was the only one effected so deeply by Chrome's kidnapping)

"Please," a familiar voice pleaded, but in a placid manner. In that moment, Ausiliatrice was hit with the grief her future-self had plagued her with, and seeing him in the flesh once more after so long, alive?

Shamal stepped forward, going as far to pushing Xanxus's shoulder away as he neared Ausiliatrice

"Leave this to a doctor."

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So, I've always kind of thought, huh, wonder why Xanxus didn't come to the ceremony, other than, you know the threat of killing Tsuna? And I quickly realized that the answer was: he would fucking decimate the Shimon, lmao get rekt. That, or at least sending them fucking hauling ass instead of standing there and monologueing for as long as they did. The end is also probably a pretty good reason why Ausil and Xanxus probably shouldn't be trusted to influence each other so much, considering Ausil was all "Motherfucker shoot this fucking ice off my leg" and Xanxus was all "Okay I mean if you say so"._

 _Also, I'm going with the "Shimon" spelling. Gah. Names and translations. Gaaaah._

 _ **Also:** last call for suggestions for the Hogwarts AU! I will most likely probably do it next chapter. Probably? _

_All of your reviews were so great and beautiful last chapter, that I decided to work on this one and update way earlier as a treat for all you wonderful reviewers! Thank you all!_

 _-Evenly_


	34. Lesson 34: To Sing

**Chapter 34: Her Mother Taught her to Sing**

* * *

 _"Sing O Goddess,_

 _but not of the rage of Achilles._

 _Nor of Alexander's fury._

 _Do not sing,_

 _O Goddess,_

 _of the demise of Icarus._

 _You have sang too often about the ire of men_

 _/_

 _Sing O Goddess,_

 _of how we toppled kingdoms_

 _with our lips._

 _Sing of how we_

 _singlehandedly_

 _ended the world_

 _by whispering_

 _in a weak man's ear._

 _Sing of how_

 _our power_

 _does not lie_

 _in cowardly murder_

 _but in the power of_

 _our heartsblood._

 _/_

 _O Goddess,_

 _Sing of Medusa instead,_

 _of her cold,_

 _unforgiving eyes._

 _Sing of Helen too,_

 _and her need_

 _to see the world burn._

 _Sing for brave Psyche,_

 _who won immortality_

 _and also a man._

 _Sing of all of us,_

 _and how in the end_

 _we didn't need to bloody our hands_

 _to rip the world to shreds._

 _/_

 _Do not sing of the deaths of men_

 _for we are the reason they fell_

 ** _\- a.h._**

* * *

"It's like a fucked up version of Cinderella, don't you think?"

His quip was met with a scowl and dark eyes flicked his way. He met this straight on with his typical sloppy grin; forced, surely, but showing no hint of this. Ausiliatrice scowled – no he thought, it was far more of a snarl. She looked away once more to the window, eyes dark, dark, dark and angry, but despite this, in moments like these?

He nearly expected them to be green ( _emerald_ ) every time they flickered his way as he continued to work on her leg, picking ice shards and skin from it and quickly doctoring.

It was times like these, seeing her like this? Where Shamal truly knew she was Esmeralda's daughter. Often, he was reminded of this fact, that this girl shared such close blood to the woman he knew so well, but never was this revelation so pure than when Ausiliatrice expressed unadulterated rage that her mother would be proud of.

But Shamal knew that now, after the fact, after the rage, Ausiliatrice felt ashamed of her earlier hastiness. This, surely, was from her father; Shamal could never think of a time where Esmeralda showed this humbleness, or at least, a single instance did not surface in his memories. No, Esmeralda's image had always been fiery and full of rage in his mind. In that moment, he wondered what Ausiliatrice's memories held of her mother. He could only hope they differed from his. He was in the opinion that Esmeralda would never make a good mother, and yet?

Here he was, tending to that woman's daughter.

Though he had treated Ausiliatrice many times before (being her primary doctor, after all these years), he admit he'd happily do without Xanxus watching over him, wrath and tension emanating from the leader of the Varia.

The man had refused to leave Ausiliatrice's side without expressing this vocally, and was watching Shamal's every movement with angry, suspicious, glinting eyes; untrusting of the doctor, and frankly, Shamal couldn't blame Xanxus, knowing the doctor's reputation around women. And yet? With Ausiliatrice?

(With Esmeralda's daughter?)

"I could do without the glaring," Shamal drawled, eyes shifting to Xanxus then back to the woman's leg as he lifted it gently, checking the other side as he finished up. Xanxus's body stiffened as the doctor wrapped it, and his scowled deepened, and his hand barely jerked, as if in warning. But Xanxus shifted back as Ausiliatrice's head whipped to him, completely in warning and being blatant about it.

"Back off," she told him, a hiss with narrowed eyes, "I'm _fine_."

His eyes shifted to her leg, and his face morphed to unimpressed. She scoffed, and turned her eyes away just as Dino entered.

"She still okay?" He asked, offending Ausiliatrice further by not directly addressing her.

"I _will_ _not_ ," she spat, "repeat myself."

"Then you should sympathize," Shamal said with a sigh, lowering her leg and shifting to where he could gather his supplies, "because I believe we've had the conversation, what was it? About you always running into things without thinking? Idiotically? Really, Ausiliatrice, I would think a woman of your caliber would show more grace in these situations."

Dino, who had been about to speak again, immediately shut his mouth, his eyes widened almost comically as he expressed shock in wake of Shamal's brave words. Even Xanxus shifted slightly, wavering between anger and curiosity, wondering how the woman would react.

Despite her expression (mimicking anger), her words held a jaunting tone:

"I've seen you drunk off your ass plenty; should you really be the one to bring up grace, Shamal?"

A moment and then a chuckle, and Shamal replied in turn,

"Don't forget, I've seen you drunk too," He warned. Ausiliatrice stiffened, and barely, there was a change in the color of her cheeks. She turned her head again as this processed, and Xanxus nearly grinned at this revelation, enjoying the imagery, or at least the crude guess at how Ausiliatrice would act drunk.

"Fuck off," she called after Shamal, who was laughing lowly as well, making his way towards the door, hand in his pocket and producing a cigarette.

"Smoke break," he called out, waving his recently retrieved lighter in his other hand, "And don't you dare walk on that leg until I say so. Or at least," he added as an after thought, "not without a crutch."

"Don't tell me what to do," she called back, grumbling and slumping further in her chair. Xanxus seemed content, an amused smile on his face as he looked down at her, comfortable in his position of leaning on a wall.

Uncertainly, and with fingers writhing similarly, Dino looked to Ausiliatrice, then to Shamal,

And followed the doctor out of the door.

* * *

Dino started awkwardly, standing near Shamal as the older man leaned against the railing, cigarette between lips and blowing smoke to the sky, as if they were kisses meant for the stars (never to reach them). Talbot was still working on the rings, which left them nothing to do but wait. But ah, that gave time for conversation, for questions, to fill empty air.

"How…" Dino started, looking down below as he struggled to form his sentence, "Why were you able to talk to her like that?"

Shamal raised an eyebrow and looked over at the don.

"To Ausiliatrice?" He clarified, and received a hesitant nod in return.

"I mean," Dino said, turning so that his back was to the tree line, "if I said anything like that to her, if anyone did, we'd be dead, wouldn't we?"

"Surely," Shamal agreed with a hint of amusement and a pilfering of smoke from his lips.

"So why are you able to?" Dino asked, nearly forgoing carefulness and asking bluntly.

Shamal shrugged, dully, and his cigarette glowed just as. A stream of smoke, and in that moment, Dino witnessed Shamal take in the serenity of the movement, the beauty of smoke; something so soft and gentle and yet the child of such destruction and wrath.

"Her anger," the doctor said finally, "is just like her mother's. And Esmeralda? I knew her well. So, I know how to deal with bitches like her."

Dino took to offense immediately.

"Hey," he said with a frown (a scowl?), "what's up with you referring to her like that?"

Shamal looked over at Dino, who had taken a step towards the other man in almost anger. The doctor's mouth was slightly open and his eyes barely widened in surprise. His cigarette, in danger of falling from his lips. A moment, and a hand reached up to grab it as he distanced it from his face with one hardy chuckle.

"Rest assured, Cavallone," Shamal said, chuckle still rumbling, "By no means was I referring to Ausiliatrice. Esmeralda on the other hand? I've called her that many times and got the scars to prove it. Ausiliatrice is like her mother in many ways, believe me, but they're nothing alike at the same time. You can say the same with her father," he admitted, another shrug and another drag. Dino's eyebrows pushed skin at this, and he opened his mouth to question,

(Just who was Ausiliatrice's father, and why did he feel like he should already know this?)

But Shamal continued before he could:

"She's her own person, no matter how many traits she shares with that woman. Don't think I _don't_ know that," he finished, almost as a warning. "After all," he said, turning and beginning to walk to the door of balcony, dropping his cigarette and carelessly stepping on it, "I've known her longer than you, Cavallone."

And in the moment, Dino once again doubted himself, as he had done many times before in his life, concerning Ausiliatrice especially.

(Did he really know her at all?)

* * *

"Did you notice, in the fight?"

He looked over, and likened this image to a portrait, like the many he had passed as a child in the unfamiliar mansion he was thrown into; her sitting in the chair, one arm propped against arm rest, head resting on the hand the arm was linked to, turned to the window, and colors muted in light around her. Serenity, what these details portrayed, but her expression, her eyes? They were tense and disturbed, their calm waters whispering of danger and unrest lurking beneath the eerily calm surface. This, was unlike fine and posh pieces of art. But this danger made her just like that to him.

"We fell into a rhythm where we relied on our box weapons. Or," she said with a scowl, shattering this portrait, "where we were _going_ to. I reached for them at one point and don't tell me for a fucking second that you didn't do the same."

His reaction, a far more blatant version of her own, gave a clear answer.

It was an infection, a plague, of how their future selves (a version that didn't, nor would it ever exist) had changed them so much and all without their consent nor approval. To a have a figure that was both a part of them and separate have so much impact was almost a disgust. Ausiliatrice didn't feel like it was her choice, falling into this rhythm and she knew Xanxus felt similar.

(although they were still trying to change, to separate themselves from those versions of them. And was that not willingly falling victim to that influence in the end?)

Her mind was racing through ifs, despite the futility of doing so. If she had Atalanta, if she had Meleager, if they had arrived earlier, if they had known about these peculiar and unfamiliar flames, if the Shimon had been researched. But ifs were damning and useless to dwell on, and never if her life did she allow herself such a privilege to do so. She wasn't the type to dwell on these things, only allowing such lulls during times of great grief, and even then?

She rose, from this and other things. Action had always come easily and naturally to her, and despite her circumstance, despite her injury

(she was forced to leave it to the kids, at least, for this current problem)

She had already taken steps, even before this realization, to surpass both her current infected self and the future version that was the cause.

Xanxus was surprised, only slightly, witnessing this sudden change and then calmness that overtook the woman. A slight shift in her seating, and her body leaning against the chair as her expression morphed only slightly, and was the bare indication of this change. Ah, but that was the difference, wasn't it, that was the rift between them.

Xanxus embraced this confusion and raged, and weaponized, and while Ausiliatrice fell fault for using this for inspiration and falling victim to the beauty of it,

She was no Icarus, addicted to the burning of wax and chasing a wrathful lover that drove a scorching chariot.

(she found no validity in pursuing Helios, and if worshipping at all? She would bow to no man; Selene was far more charming in her opinion, and she would reach her hand to the softer light of the moon)

Ausiliatrice and Xanxus were people of action, people of movement and motion, and even when they were forced to be static?

That only gave them the time to plan their next move.

* * *

"I'm surprised," Ausiliatrice said, pivoting her crutch and turning to look at Reborn as he entered the room, "that you haven't left yet."

( _That you came to check on me_ )

"I assume that you're aware of what's happening," Reborn said with a dip of his hat, "just as I assume you have your own ways of getting information."

"It's idiotic," she stated, looking at the paper she had written on before folding it neatly, and turning rigid eyes to him, "that the Ninth forbade you from fighting, and that he isn't allowing anyone else to help children fight. But what's even more idiotic?"

"I listen to Ninth," Reborn finished for her, and then defended, "but not out of loyalty to the Vongola."

In response to her father's word, she simply clicked her tongue and moved again, her only difficulty revealed by her refusal to put weight in her injured leg. She fell into her seat,

And waited.

Reborn opened his mouth, and momentarily, nerve with admittance, he struggled for words to force into the air between him and his daughter

("Extend an invitation")

But what could he gift when he had nothing to give? What could he give that equivalates 26 years of absence? What could he offer that did not trivialize that? His hands were empty, with nothing to present for reconcile.

But did she need that?

"We'll get Chrome back," he told her, almost a choke before stabilization, "Tsuna will succeed."

She sighed, such a light and heavy sound all at once, one paradox amongst the many between them.

"It's not Tsuna," she told him, "that I'm depending on."

* * *

"The fuck was that in there?" Squalo seethed, walking quickly and only slightly behind his boss as they exited the castle, "You're just going to let the brats fuck up and die just so we have to clean up later? Why the hell didn't you say anything, you shitty–"

He stepped back, easily dodging the lazy slew of bullets Xanxus spat at him. Red eyes narrowed, and Xanxus clicked his tongue, turning back to face the lowering helicopter.

"Shut the fuck up, trash," Xanxus said, and Squalo grew quiet, seeing his boss far too calm, and yet his eyes were far too _curious_ , far too _excited_ , as he spoke again, his voice, the inquiry in it matching his eyes, complimenting them,

"We have other things to do."

* * *

"I need the location of the base."

"Miss the meeting?" She asked, turning her head to her student. Hibari Kyoya's lip barely moved to sneer at her comment.

"Don't be so pissed," she tutted, shifting against the railing she was leaning against and holding out a folded piece of paper, "I did too, thanks to what that girl did to my leg." She nodded to the crutch beside her, discarded and leaning innocently, uselessly (Shamal, she was sure, would have a fit, seeing how little she was using it).

He eyed her, and stepped forward, taking the paper and scanning over the coordinates once it was unfolded. A snap, and it was closed and put in the pocket of his jacket.

"I," he said as he turned to leave, valiant if not for the smugness in his eyes, "will pick up where you failed."

"Kyoya," she called, and he stopped, and barely; he turned his head, steel eyes meeting hers, void-filled and endless.

A simple nod, and she continued.

"Make sure you guys beat the shit out of them."

He barely smirked, and scoffed, turning again only to stop again at the sound of her voice:

"Oh, and Kyoya?" She said, barely titling her head up, her eyes glinting.

"Be sure to pass that message to Chrome too."

* * *

"I don't know whether to be more pissed off about the Ninth forbidding us not to go with them or you keeping me here," Ausiliatrice said, her face placid, in ignorance of the spite in her words.

"Be mad at the old coot," Shamal suggested with shrug, refilling her drink, "At least I'm doing it as a friend." He received an unamused expression in response.

"You're keeping me here with the threat of your mosquitoes," she reminded him, her eyes flickering the numerous insects that wafted in and out of her sight, buzzing throughout the school infirmary (just in case, just in case, but Ausiliatrice had always hated those like Shamal, with strange weapons that she herself did not know if she could defend against, and she herself wasn't willing to find out if she could unless it was a dire circumstance)

(but was this not one? No. She would trust Tsunayoshi, and more importantly? She would trust Chrome)

"I would hate to give a beautiful lady such crippling diseases," he admitted with a sloppy grin, leaning against the table they were sitting at, "but I'm afraid my honor as a doctor comes first in this situation. I can't let you fight on that leg. And don't," he said, almost sharply as she opened her mouth, "say that you heal fast, I _know_ you heal fast; but these are unfamiliar flames and it's my job to make sure that they have no other ill effect on you at least until you leave with Cavallone."

For a moment, she opened her mouth, just barely, and considered telling him; of the future, of his death, of her thoughts. But she closed her mouth, considering further, and asking instead,

"Were you in love with my mother, Shamal?"

He looked at her strangely in response. Hesitation, and then a grin, soft and almost pitying.

"Esmeralda was far too vulgar for my taste," he told her, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," she asked, looking at the empty bottle between them and thinking, "if that was why you always take care of me." He seemed surprised, if slightly by her response.

"That's dumb," he scoffed, finishing his drink, "who would look after a kid just because of that?"

"I can think of one, easily," she replied, and he grew somber, knowing. He hesitated, then spoke:

"You may remind me of your mother, and you may have your father's eyes," he told her, and then lifted his empty glass to her, "but know that's not why I drink with you, Ausiliatrice."

A moment, and Ausiliatrice stared down as she shifted her empty glass in her hand.

And she nodded thanks instead of vocalizing it.

(The carriage had left without her, and there was no way of getting to the ball before midnight strikes)

(but was she the princess of this story?)

* * *

She woke, her eyelashes fluttering uncertainly as the memory of Primo she just received wafted from her mind. A moment of drugged serenity, and Chrome stared up at the ceiling groggily, barely shifting her body and feeling sheets, soft and unfamiliar. A snap, and the instinct that was beaten into reared its head;

Chrome shot up, feeling for her weapon immediately and not finding it. She blinked and looked down, finding her jacket from the ceremony gone, leaving her in a dress shirt and skirt, her boots removed as well. Breathing out, and despite the cold feeling in her stomach, she calmed herself, well aware that panic would only damn her. Her hands however stilled as they pressed over her stomach, and suddenly Chrome, her body, her organs,

felt _wrong_. Unnatural, unfamiliar. These illusions inside her, keeping her alive were not Mukuro's nor were they her own;

Sudden and immense danger, and Chrome looked to the balcony of the room, seeing a familiar silhouette. Quickly, she dismissed the thought that it was Mukuro, knowing this to be impossible. A shift in the outline, and Julie Katou stepped from the shadows of the room, but even as she said his name in mock shock, and waited, playing innocent and helpless as a plan formed in her head, this image of him that he played up,

She felt this to be a lie, him, this person, this being as a whole.

(A mist, a mist, a mist, and many forget)

* * *

 _We, Hecate had signed to her, are far above using actual weapons, my dear. Our illusions are dangerous enough._

 _"But," Ausiliatrice said, her eyes narrowed in challenge, looking over at Hecate then to Chrome, "it's best to be adept with both illusions and weapons. You will," she emphasized, "find yourself in a situation where you will be forced to use what you are unfamiliar with, to do what you do not want to. Although I prefer guns," she admitted, holding up an open palm and then closing it, "I'm not unfamiliar with killing with my bare hands. Although my style is brutal and clumsy, it works. And what works, Chrome, whether familiar or not," Ausiliatrice said, fixing her student further with her gaze,_

 _"What works must be used in dire situations."_

* * *

He had taken her trident with him when he left, but the mistake he had made? It was underestimating Chrome;

Immediately, she pushed herself from the bed, checking the doors and windows, and pressing against them in hopes of opening. She let out a breath, finding her attempts to be useless, and upon a closer look? She found the cracks in the doors and the window to be filled with a strange sand like substance. She let out another breath, shuddering, before retreating from the door, her hands on her stomach.

She allowed herself to sit on the bed, her head bowed and eye closed in concentration.

 _"Why do you allow him to create your organs," Ausiliatrice had asked her, hand against the scar on her face and she propped her head up, leaning forward with slight interest. Chrome blinked, looking up at her tutor. A slight blushed, and the girl looked away in thought. Ausiliatrice allowed her this._

 _"I…" Chrome muttered after a few moment, "I can't possible support myself on my own–"_

 _"Then what," Ausiliatrice challenged coyly, "are you doing now? Why," the older woman continued after Chrome blushed further and looked away from Ausiliatrice once again, "do you want to depend on him to keep you alive? Why not put your own life in your own capable hands, Chrome? Or should I answer for you?"_

 _Chrome respond with silence, tense and embarrassed. Ashamed._

 _"It's because," Ausiliatrice continued cruelly, "you like depending on others. Having their strength to back you, in case something goes wrong. I suppose there is charm to it, even though I've never been lured," she admitted with a shrug, leaning back in her chair with arms crossed, "but I've never had the privilege to depend on someone else for too long. Not like this. But Chrome, you should know," she said, clearly making this out to be a warning, "the world is full of what ifs and just in cases that turn to reality, just waiting to prove you wrong and watch you fall. Mukuro won't always be there for you, like he wasn't there for you just days ago," Ausiliatrice reminded her, and Chrome put her hand on her midsection, her skin tingling with the feeling of her own flames supporting her body._

 _"You haven't notice, have you?" Ausiliatrice called her attention back, "Or thought too much about it. It's because I've been distracting you, with this rigorous training. You've been supporting yourself this entire time without repercussion, without faltering. To think that you need someone else to live," Ausiliatrice finished strongly, "is damning. Self-harming, and it will lead to your own illusions killing you."_

 _"Don't doubt. Live for yourself," Ausiliatrice told her, reaching forward and lifting Chrome's chin gently, "and make others happy because of it. Give your will to your life, and not to others."_

Chrome took a breath, strong and solid, her hand placed on her stomach and slightly pushing, feeling. And slowly, she felt her own flames build inside her body, pressing against the unfamiliar infection that created and coated her inside. A wince, and more ragged breaths, almost hiccupping,

But Chrome kept her resolve and her flames spiked at this, pushing his away and out. Another shuddering and Chrome fell back on the bed, blood dribbling from her mouth in the moments that her body was without her organs. She squeezed her eye tight, and fell back into concentration, and fell back into her will, her need to support herself.

And slowly, the collapsed section of her body rose, and was full,

with her own illusions of her organs.

Still breathing heavy and tired, Chrome allowed a soft smile at this victory, but was quick to let it fade. She only gave herself a few moments before rising again, and looking around the room once more. She had gained part of her independence back, expelling his illusions from her body, and yet?

There was more to do still.

And when Julie Katou returned, expecting a weak hostage, looking for a way to escape,

he found himself in a world of illusions ( _her_ illusions) the moment he stepped into the room, and as for the girl herself?

He found her ready to fight.

* * *

"Unfortunately for you, my dear Chrome," Daemon sneered, face contorted momentarily before regaining his calm façade, his breath barely labored from the fight (and what a fight this child put up, he thought with a sneer), "my powers are not limited to the mist of the 7 elements of the sky. There was no hope for you to win. You put an impressive fight my dear, but it was useless in the end, simply because your opponent was me."

Chrome fell to her knees with labored breath, the illusion around them cracking, breaking, and then shattering, revealing the room once again. Her trident, which she had materialized herself, fell to mist once more, and her body followed, having been leaning against.

"You won't…" she breathed out, her eye hard and glaring as he approached her smoothly, "win… boss will defeat you."

"Sawada Tsunayoshi?" Daemon challenged, smirking as he stooped down, reaching a hand to lift her face, and hesitating for a single moment,

likening her fierce expression to Elena.

A sneer, and a shake of his head, and he retained his careful mask with a smirk.

"Dirt," he defined, "beneath my boot."

And as her conscious faded, feeling his flames infect her body once more?

Chrome muttered a quick and genuine (sad, _defeated_ ) apology to her tutor.

* * *

Dino glanced at the woman in the seat beside him, momentarily looking at her still injured leg before his gaze resting on her face once more. Ausiliatrice was looking to the window of the plane, out to the sky, to the clouds.

"I've been meaning to ask, Ausiliatrice," he started carefully, watching her reaction closely, "about the future."

Her eyes turned to him quickly, almost as in warning, but he continued his sentence hastily before she could speak.

"About Chrome. About why you took her on as a student."

A moment, and a slow blink, and her expression softened from the almost anger it had morphed to earlier.

"Why," she said carefully, "do you ask?"

"Well," he said with a shrug, running a hand through his hair, "I mean, you took on Hibari during the ring conflict, and that made sense, right? You two are clearly similar, if you don't mind me saying," he tacked on, but she nodded in calm agreement, allowing him to continue:

"But Chrome," he said, slower, careful, "She's not really like you. I mean, she's not exactly a fighter, and she's an illusionist. Which, don't you don't like illusions, right? It's surprising, that's all."

"You're wrong," she corrected him, eyes out the window once more, "she is a fighter. As for why I took her on?"

He gave her a moment, and was simply content in watching, almost fascinated, clearly seeing the words forming in her head through her eyes (abyssal and endless and beautiful).

"When it comes to children," she began slowly, "you know I will help them, and that is part of the reason why I took Chrome as my student. But only part. The other reason?" she said, looking back over at him.

"In this world, the underground, dominated by men? Women must help girls become like us; survive like us, dominate like us, fight like us. I saw potential in her, the same potential that women before me saw in me. You," she said, almost in accusation (but Dino was wise enough to know it was not directed to him as a person, he was no fool to think such a thing), "couldn't understand. But women like us, like me? We were once girls like her. And girls like her?" She said, her lip barely quirking, and her eyes nearly shining,

"Will dominate the world of men."

(Helen fell a city with just her beauty, just think if she entered the fray herself)

* * *

He walked confidently, forgoing Julie Katou's image entirely as he entered the larger space. His smile stretched further as he approached Chrome, who was still breathing heavily, her body nearly hanging from her restraints. It was endearing almost that she was still trying to escape from him, despite its futility.

"I have a gift for you, Chrome," he said, walking in and dropping a large indigo stone in front of her. Breathing heavily, Chrome's eye narrowed as she looked at the object, and something in her stirred in recognition, as if the stone was calling her.

"That's…" she muttered, realizing and straining her body outward from where Daemon had tied her arms above her. The shackle on her ankle clicked as she struggled, desperation fueling her further, "the Vongola Ring and Mukurou!"

"Ah, you recognized it then?" Daemon mused, watching her in amusement, "That boy, Yamamoto Takeshi? The one who _should_ ," he emphasized, bloodlust and anger lacing his tone, "be dead? He delivered it for you when he heroically arrived. There was a small dispute," Daemon admitted with a callous shrug, "but nothing you should be worried about, my dear."

"You won't win," she breathed out, glaring once more and she pushed her body further, weak as this movement was, "I won't allow you to get to Mukuro…"

"Oh, but Chrome," Daemon tutted, grabbing her chin and holding it tightly, "You're much too weak to support your own body like before. And when I remove the barrier, Mukuro will come, worried about his precious, dying vessel. And when he does?" He finished with a dark chuckle, "Well," he said retreating and moving to the seal on the ground near them,

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," he said, lowering himself and placing his hand on the mark, removing the barrier and revealing the island completely. Smirking, he looked back at Chrome, further struggling but extremely worn and tired from their earlier battle. He faked a look of pity and standing to his full height, holding up a hand.

"Cry as much as you want," he told her before snapping, "It'll make you all the better bait."

And in that next moment,

Chrome fell helpless once more.

( _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ )

"Mukuro..." she spat out, blood dribbling from her lips, "Please don't come."

But ah, Mukuro was never keen on others telling him what to do, and in a flurry of wind and mist?

He had arrived, furious and prepared to battle.

(In a way, they were both similar to her, in many)

* * *

 _"You're staring again," she blatantly reminded him, but heterochromatic eyes did not look away from the scar, so fresh and glaring on her face._

 _"Mukuro," Ausiliatrice snapped, and the man clicked his tongue, moving past her and deeper into the burnt ruins of the Estraneo base. She sighed, and followed and spoke once again:_

 _"I don't see why you insist on returning, or not telling anyone else about it," she said, abyssal eyes going over the ruins, looking at the remains of the building she herself had set fire to, "and I don't see why you drag me along."_

 _"Tradition," he shot back playfully, walking a accustomed path to an area in particular. Her expression fell flat._

 _"Like we," she said, watching his pace slow, his fist tightening around the bouquet of flowers in his hand as he came to a known spot, the remains of a familiar and haunting room, "are the type to follow tradition."_

 _"Don't you love him, Ausiliatrice?" Mukuro said boldly, stooping and laying the flowers on the ground gently._

 _"Always," she responded, quieter and softer._

 _"And how," he pursued, remaining lowered and staring at the flowers, "do you show it?"_

 _"By living," she said simply, "by breathing and fighting and being. By living for myself, and remembering him."_

 _"And this," he said, barely turning his head and gesturing, "is how I show it. Appreciation," he said, voice lower and sadder, "for him. For the dead."_

 _A moment, and Mukuro continued to look at the scorched ground, the flowers so bright and vibrant against it and their surroundings._

 _"Emotion," she said coolly, stooping and shifting her hand through the ashes, letting them fall from her hand listlessly, "does not make us weak, and to be human is not a fault. Anger, wrath, strength are beauty, as are grief and longing. To not have these, to not express these, is a mark against their memory. And so why," she said, rising again to looking to the illusionist, "do you hide this part of you from others you care about?"_

 _Mukuro shifted his head, as if wanting to meet her eyes and look back completely. A moment, a scowl, and he looked back down._

 _"If only this were a proper grave," he tutted, his eyes dark and angry as he rose and turned, "then perhaps we could etch your poetry into a headstone for him." He walked away and passed her, brushing shoulders. Ausiliatrice barely shifted, nearly awkwardly, hesitating before following,_

 _making a decision (one that she should have made long ago, after all these years)._

 _"Mukuro," she called, only putting a hand on his shoulder after he had stopped._

 _"I…" she said, uncertainly, before finding confidence, "There's something… that I want to share with you."_

 _A moment, and the wind blew stiffly, barely shifting the large petals of the sunflowers Mukuro had left on the ground behind them._

* * *

Mukuro smiled, no – smirked, smugly so as he easily disposed of the pitiful illusions that Daemon Spade had conjured in hopes of deterring the young illusionist. Those, Ken, M.M., Chikusa, Fran, and even Chrome, he could dispose of easily, because he was well aware of the flimsiness of their reality,

But _Her_?

How could he strike her, how could he react and defend himself when the anger in her abyssal eyes was so _real_ and resonated so deeply within him.

(that made him feel such guilt, retching this feeling from the deep folds of his mind where he had stored this immense _guilt, guilt, guilt_ )

(Thank god there was no illusion of _him_ for Mukuro to fight)

He doubled over, her swift kick to his gut crippling, and barely had enough sense to roll away in time to dodge her bullets.

"Oh?" Daemon chided, slightly surprised himself as he watched the illusion of Ausiliatrice stalk towards Mukuro's hunched form, "for this woman to have a such an effect, and for her image to be so strong? Her tether to you must be grand. Such a weakness," and at this Mukuro winced, rising again and barely defending against the onslaught of her attacks, "to exploit so beautifully. I wonder what you did to her, to warrant such emotions?"

Mukuro flattered again, and in that moment, Ausiliatrice (the illusion of her, the image, the _fake_ ), grabbed his collar roughly, and pushing him against the wall of the illusionary world they were fighting in. Mukuro sneered, and looked to her eyes,

And immediately regretted doing so.

"You know I blame you for his death," the illusion of Ausiliatrice spoke to him "and you're afraid that I'll take it out on you, that I'll remind you of what you did to him. How dare you," she spat, dropping him and kicking him again, "feel grief after what you did? You're the reason he died," she said, as he rolled away, grabbing his weapon, earlier discarded when she had attacked him,

"How dare," she said, tears, he realized, streaming down her face, "feel sorrow when you were the cause of his death."

(In the end, it was this that snapped him out of it. Because it was this display of emotion that reminded him that this Ausiliatrice was fake, because the real thing?)

(Ausiliatrice would never break down into tears when there was action to be taken)

* * *

Abyssal eyes blinked, and Ausiliatrice looked up. Her book shutting so suddenly startled Dino, who jumped in his desk chair. He swiveled to face her, confused and clearly expressing this.

"Dino," she said before he could speak, "leave." His eyebrows met in further confusion.

"But this is _my_ offic– Right," he said with a nod, immediately submitting after a harsh look from her. He gathered papers, quickly and messily, and as soon as he shut the door behind him,

Mukuro appeared, sitting arrogantly in the chair Dino had just left.

"Your body," Ausiliatrice said in lieu of a greeting.

"A pleasing outcome from the battle with the Shimon, or rather," he corrected with a coy smile, "Daemon Spade. But I'm sure you're well aware of what happened on that island, no?"

She hummed, crossing her arms and maintained her casual lean on the windowsill.

"You came here for a reason," she stated. He chuckled in response.

"A straight forward woman, but," he said, smile barely dipping, meaning behind his words, "I am well aware of that. And I appreciate this greatly."

She waited, patiently, and this too he found appreciation for.

"Chrome…" he said trialing off, expressing wariness and smartly doing so around her, "has expressed her desire to become independent. In other words, she is now using her own power to keep herself alive. This comes at a convenient time, seeing that I have no use for her–"

"And you want me to take care of her," Ausiliatrice concluded her him. "Luckily for you," she said almost dangerously, "this comes at a convenient time for me as well, seeing that I was about to approach Chrome myself. The ease at which you cast her aside is sickening," she said with the slight narrowing of her eyes, and just as, he barely stiffened, "but we both know that this is just a line delivered in your little play."

He had the decency to wince at this, but covered it with a chuckle.

"You seem to be enjoying the performance," he pointed out, "or at least, don't care enough to drop the curtain."

"I'm not an actor in it and it clearly isn't meant for me," she said, finding amusement in their little metaphor, "I had been considering taking Chrome with me myself, simply because of her unacceptable living conditions. Tell the other ones," she said, referring clearly to Ken and Chikusa, "to get jobs at least, or I'll place my hand there as well."

He hummed, still on her first statement, and wondering momentarily about the truth of it (if not an actor, if not audience member, then how did Ausiliatrice fit into this? Fit with him? Connected, surely, but at what distance, and how far did this string stretch?)

"That," he started again, "is only one of the reasons I am here, and although after that I am no position to ask any more favors–"

"My guardianship over Chrome Dokuro is not a consequence of you asking," Ausiliatrice was quick to correct him, "and it's something I am doing on my own. What else do you want, Mukuro?"

The tone in which she said this was dismissive, and yet? He spoke:

"I've recently wrestled with long banished demons that I want to finally put to rest," Mukuro said with slight strain (sadness) lingering and clinging tightly to his words, "and… I wanted to ask. Vaguely, I recall something from my future counterpart. Of course, this decision is yours to make, considering…." He trailed off once more, showing uncertainty, and again

She was reminded of the boy from the bloodstained hallway, and she wondered if this is how she would always view him.

"It's coming up, isn't it? That day?" he asked her quietly, far more of a reminder than a question of confirmation. Her demeanor shifted, not to sadness exactly, but to _something_ : longing, acceptance, not sadness, but not content, a gray area between where those who have lost loved ones waded and searched black waters, never to find clarity.

"She…." Ausiliatrice said quietly, "showed you that place, didn't she?" He didn't even nod to confirm.

"It's sacred," Mukuro said with respect, "and it's _yours_ , I know. But…." And she interrupted him, and he looked up, surprised to see a soft smile on her lips (acceptance, forgiveness).

(Can you imagine?)

"Have you ever been to Brazil, Mukuro?"

* * *

She was almost guilty, returning after such a long absence. In the earlier years, so fresh after his death, she had visited this place, _their_ place, constantly. It was an attempt of familiarity, as if being here would give her the feeling of his arms, the happiness behind his smile;

But it left her empty and longing for him more.

And now, returning with someone else, who felt similar grief to her (not the same, never the same, for two people's loss is never comparable).

Mukuro was silent as they trekked through the forest, and she allowed him to walk forward first when they had reached the small clearing a top the cliff. Tenderly, he approached the axes, and lifted a hand to them,

Only to quickly retract them, as if the air around the metal had seared skin.

"Do you..." he asked quietly as she approached, "blame me for his death?"

"Do you hate the mafia for what they did to you?" she asked in turn, and he nearly winced, looking away and to the sunrise that draped the sky. She looked to him, and hesitantly, placed a hand on his shoulder.

(it was damning to dwell on ifs, and so she didn't)

He turned his body to face her, but had yet to turn his eyes from the sky.

"If you have his memories," she spoke, looking at his eyes despite him not returning the formality, "then you know the answer to that."

Hesitation, and then? She put her other hand on his other shoulder, and slowly, watching him carefully while doing so, pulled him closer, until finally,

Both arms where gently around his neck as she embraced him, and he let her.

(she wondered, thinking to the boy in the hallway, thinking to the boy in her arms now, what his mother was like, if he remembered her. Or was he like her? Was his definition of a mother was warped and skewed)

(and in her arms, feeling warmth, he wondered; was this a mother's touch?)

"Take care of her," he said, leaning his head into her shoulder, his face still expressionless, and yet?

"I will," she responded, "You know I will."

(there was no point to a charade, in performance when your audience was one, and one who knew your bare face well)

Behind them, the sun continued to rise, rise, rise,

As it always did.

* * *

 _"You may write me down in history_

 _With your bitter, twisted lies,_

 _You may trod me in the very dirt_

 _But still, like dust, I'll rise._

 _/_

 _Does my sassiness upset you?_

 _Why are you beset with gloom?_

 _'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells_

 _Pumping in my living room._

 _/_

 _Just like moons and like suns,_

 _With the certainty of tides,_

 _Just like hopes springing high,_

 _Still I'll rise._

 _/_

 _Did you want to see me broken?_

 _Bowed head and lowered eyes?_

 _Shoulders falling down like teardrops,_

 _Weakened by my soulful cries?_

 _/_

 _Does my haughtiness offend you?_

 _Don't you take it awful hard_

 _'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines_

 _Diggin' in my own backyard._

 _/_

 _You may shoot me with your words,_

 _You may cut me with your eyes,_

 _You may kill me with your hatefulness,_

 _But still, like air, I'll rise._

 _/_

 _Does my sexiness upset you?_

 _Does it come as a surprise_

 _That I dance like I've got diamonds_

 _At the meeting of my thighs?_

 _/_

 _Out of the huts of history's shame_

 _I rise_

 _Up from a past that's rooted in pain_

 _I rise_

 _I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,_

 _Welling and swelling I bear in the tide._

 _/_

 _Leaving behind nights of terror and fear_

 _I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear_

 _I rise_

 _Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,_

 _I am the dream and the hope of the slave._

 _I rise_

 _I rise_

 _I rise."_

 ** _\- "Still I Rise", Maya Angelou_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I always thought that it was the Shimon attack that pushed the Varia to start looking into the development of their box weapons, and then the representative battle just completing the process._

 _It was fun writing Shamal again. At one point, he just kind of? Disappears in the series? I always thought his mosquitoes were hella useful, so that might be why? Because it would solve a lot of things easily? So Ausil is basically out for this conflict, but fuck it if Chrome isn't going to go down without a fucking fight. Are you kidding me? With what Ausiliatrice put her through and how much she has grown? Nope. She's going to push back against Daemon, even if he overpowers her in the end (because although Chrome has grown, there is no way she could beat Daemon on her own). So this chapter is mostly about Chrome, and then Mukuro's scene/parts are also important, finally establishing their relationship in this timeline more._

 _Now that other relationships have been dealt with and established, Reborn and Ausil's will definitely take center stage in the next arc, because we all know what's coming next, don't we? That's right, it's MY FAVORITE ARC OF THE SERIES. GET HYPE_

 _-Evenly_


	35. Lesson 35: To Grow

**Lesson 35: Her Mother Taught Her to Grow**

* * *

 _"Flower grow back, even_

 _After they are stepped on._

 _So will I."_

* * *

Chrome's eyes widened in surprise, seeing the figure that was waiting outside their decaying residence that morning.

"The hell?!" Ken spat, stepping forward and in front of Chrome, "What the he-"

"You're Ausiliatrice," Chikusa interrupted smoothly, giving Ken a warning, cautionary glance before turning his eyes back to the woman, "or do you prefer Atalanta?"

Ausiliatrice shrugged, a loose, callous movement before lifting a hand and elegantly beckoning with her finger:

"Let's take a walk, Chrome," the older woman addressed, and turned away before the younger could answer. Almost awkwardly, Chrome looked to her friends before nearly running after Ausiliatrice, who only slowed when they were a considerable way from the others. Standing beneath the flourishing balcony that the greenery covered ruins of Kokuyo Land provided, Ausiliatrice held a peaceful glow in her, dark skin swathed with greens and yellows from the light filtering though the leaves, with the slightest reflection of blue from the sky peeking through. But her eyes were hidden still, under the sunglasses Ausiliatrice chose to wear, a fact that Chrome feared the most;

What did her tutor, beautiful and esteemed and strong ( _always_ ), think of her recent and devastating defeat? What did Ausiliatrice think of how easily Chrome succumbed to Daemon Spade, of how her body fell so effortlessly under his control, despite her best efforts? Chrome feared the disappointment the woman she respected so much (that he taught her so much, that somehow found false potential in her) surely felt towards Chrome at this time, and surely, surely, Ausiliatrice knew of this all, and under the glassy reflection that hid her abyssal eyes, Chrome knew they would be angry, dissatisfied, greatly so;

This is the long coming moment where Ausiliatrice would discard Chrome due to weakness like so many others in her life (like her mother, like her stepfather, like Mukuro would do, now if not soon, because Chrome was not an idiot, and she knew, she _knew_ ). How could she compare, after all? To the other guardians, to Mukuro, to Ausiliatrice's other student, Hibari Kyoya, who was fierce and strong, so much like the woman herself, so much unlike Chrome, who held none of those features,

And Ausiliatrice was everything in a woman that Chrome strove to be; beautiful and strong and unapologetic in every action. She was everything that Chrome believed she could never be, and in that moment, all of this hitting her in such a sudden and damning realization,

Chrome sniffled and then sobbed, putting a hand over her mouth as tears welled in her eye, dribbling down as more chokes and hiccups raked her body, ugly as she shivered and cried further, her failures all dawning her at once.

In response, Ausiliatrice's eyes widened from under her sunglasses, and her hands rose uncertainly, the girl's crying startling her. With the Chrome coming to tears so suddenly in front of her, Ausiliatrice did not know what to do in such a situation. Comfort was not her forte, especially when the source of such strong and defeating emotion did not align with her.

"I-I lost," Chrome stuttered, looking to the ground and barely seeing that through tears, "I tried to fight but, but I lost in the end… and then Mukuro, Daemon got his body and it was my fault and now, he's – he's just going to–"

Chrome stopped, voice cut off as Ausiliatrice's arms wrapped around her, pulling the younger girl towards her. Chrome's lips wavered again, and she turned her head to Ausiliatrice's shoulder, crying into it. Ausiliatrice allowed her this, her features still uncertain, but this? Comforting the small girl and allowing her to cry? This felt like the right thing to do. A few more moments, filled with soft sobs, and Ausiliatrice spoke:

"All of us," she said, "face defeat. And it's not always," Ausiliatrice admitted with reluctance, "linked to physical battle."

"And what," Chrome sniffled, her head buried into the other woman, arms wrapped tightly around her for comfort, leaving her small voice muffled, "What can we do? What comes after defeat?"

Ausiliatrice gave a moment of silence, unbroken and holy, freckled with the soft sounds of the nature that surrounded them as if the lack of words were bathed in soft green light as well, making it a visual aspect of the scene. Ausiliatrice shifted, pushing Chrome away from her, and in that moment, Chrome felt panic, coldness and desperation. But Ausiliatrice lifted her hand, and pushed her sunglasses to rest a top of her head,

And Chrome saw her eyes, bared and empathetic and knowing, and with this? She felt relief, immediately.

"We rise," Ausiliatrice said, lifting Chrome chin gently and leaning to place a kiss on the girl's forehead, "from defeat. We rise, always."

* * *

"You live in a dump, you know," Ausiliatrice said bluntly as she sauntered back into the room with the boys, Chrome right behind her. Ken's eyes barely narrowed, seeing the redness of the girl's eye, a fact that sparked anger at him, which, foolishly, he directed at the older woman.

"Who the fuck are you to say that, huh?" he spat back, stepping forward aggressively only for a placid hand to be laid on his shoulder. His head whipped back, glaring as Chikusa stepped forward, giving another cursory glance at his friend before turning to Ausiliatrice.

"It's all," Chikusa said calmly, but there was an edge to it, "that we have."

"It's pathetic," Ausiliatrice spat, "and no place for children to live. Believe me," she added, truth and meaning echoing her last statement, her face nearly softening as she watched Chrome scurry around the room, collecting the few things she had. Ken noticed this as well, and again fell to hot offense.

"The hell are you doing?" He addressed Chrome instead. The girl's head popped to him, and then looked to Ausiliatrice, unsure of how to answer.

"Mukuro is throwing her out," Ausiliatrice said blunting, crossing her arms, "and I'm taking her in. I suppose he didn't tell you? But I assume he'll give you an _adequate,_ " she nearly spat, edging with annoyance, "explanation when you meet up with him."

"Meet up with Mukuro?" Chikusa pursued, questioning.

"Meet him at the airport," she instructed and then titled her head, as if remembering, "and also," she shifted her own bag, and pulled a briefcase from it, opening it and revealing wads of cash to them, "take this back. Mukuro was too stubborn to submit, but I'm sure you two aren't idiotic enough to turn down such a _generous_ offer. And besides," she said with a small shrug, "this should help."

"Help with what?" Ken asked, still sneering, but far more retained and interested.

"Get," Ausiliatrice said, snapping the brief case shut and tossing it back to Ken, who barely managed to catch it, "your shit together. And this," she added, reaching into her own pocket, unfolding a fat wad of bills and flipping through it, before handing a part of it to Chikusa, "should cover you for a while, along with the money meant for Chrome, until you get jobs and support yourself. Which, you _will_ do, and I _will_ ," she said, clearly a threat, "check up on you make sure you're supporting yourself. Don't treat this as an act of charity, because it's not."

And with a turn, and the soft tug of Chrome's arm, she walked away from them without another word, smoothly placing the sunglasses back over her eyes, and regaining the quelled façade she had retained despite the entire conversation. Chrome looked to her tutor, then back to the two boys, who stared after the older woman in blatant shock and almost admiration.

With a quick bow and a quick muttering of goodbyes and thanks yous,

(and quick kisses on the cheeks to both of them, rendering Ken a blubbering, red mess)

Chrome ran after Ausiliatrice leaving the boys only to watch as they left.

* * *

"What do you mean _old friend_?" Ausiliatrice asked, looking to Dino after him and Chrome exchanged soft hellos and smiles and greetings. He blinked, and looked back to Ausiliatrice. With an awkward, lopsided smile, and a hand through his hair, he responded to her:

"A woman came in while you were gone? She didn't seem dangerous, and we searched her for weapons – and I know," he said quickly before she could interrupt, pinpointing her critique already, "that doesn't mean she's not dangerous, I know. But just talking to her…." He trailed off, clearly thinking back, "Well, I _really_ think you should talk to her, Ausiliatrice."

"You're insisting," Ausiliatrice said, eyes narrowed and tone verging on dangerous, "that I talk to this woman." Chrome blinked, and took a step back from the couple. Dino's mouth opened and closed uncertainly before he spoke again.

"I think…" He said before inserting more confidence into this voice, "Yeah, I am. Because I think she's a sky. I know–" he confirmed quickly seeing her look, "that she is. And the way she talked? She really wants to talk to you, Ausiliatrice."

She stood, arms crossed, and reviewed Dino, who stood tensely, but confidently as she did so. Chrome shifted, looking between the two once more, and only relaxing as Ausiliatrice sighed and let her arms fall, moving forward with grace and ease.

"Fine. Chrome, get settled in," she addressed the girl with a slight nod, and then giving Dino a side glance, "while I meet with this _old friend_."

* * *

Ausiliatrice did not recognize the woman waiting for her. But in a strange sense, Ausiliatrice knew that the woman was well aware who Ausiliatrice was the moment their eyes met. It was different, from say, how Meilin and Ausiliatrice knew each other via memories of the future, but in a sense? It was similar. And it was these same memories of the future that connected Ausiliatrice and Meilin that gave Ausiliatrice recognition of the woman now sitting in front of her; she didn't find this in the woman herself, no.

Ausiliatrice recognized the symbol printed neatly under the woman's eyes, and recognized the soft glow of her gaze, and immediately thought of the young girl from the future. A subtle sadness hit her with the sudden thought of Uni, but Ausiliatrice pushed past this, finding identity in this woman easily enough with this connection.

"You're Uni's mother," Ausiliatrice state, accidentally phrasing it as an accusation. She nearly winced, catching her own mistake and finding distaste in her own action, but smoothed over this easily.

"Aria," the woman supplied with a soft smile, "and I've wanted to meet you for a long time, Ausiliatrice."

It was that moment, reviewing the woman further, that Ausiliatrice realized the exact desperation of Dino's insistence. Her next statement was blunt, but only due to Aria's own awareness of the subject:

"You're dying," Ausiliatrice said, with only an ounce of sensitivity, "and you know it. You've known it for a long time."

Aria's smile did not change, and not even an ounce of strain threatened it's softness, it's glow.

"The curse of a limited life, a burden all the Skies of the Arcobaleno face, but," she said, dipping her head almost apologetically, "before you ask for details of the Arcobaleno Curse, I'm sure those inquiries would be far more suited for your father. And I'm sure, he'll approach you soon on the subject," she said as a promise, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

Her look evened and Ausiliatrice leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and body lax but observant and prepared, hand casually hanging, but near enough to the guns at her waist. Ausiliatrice wasn't flirting with this display, but Aria didn't seem perturbed.

"I will admit," Aria said, looking away and towards the window of the room warmly, "I had always been tempted to approach you, seeing that we're the same age, and the circumstances with our parents…. Well, it would be offensive to compare them and mark them as similar, wouldn't it? Still," she said, allowing a moment for Ausiliatrice to talk before continuing politely, "I had always imagined that we would have a lot to talk about, and perhaps become close. But, of course, I never wanted to pressure you, or make you feel like this connection was forced…."

"Being the Sky Arcobaleno, inheriting this pacifier, this title, this sight," she said, the first ounce of regret gently bruising her voice before healing (but it was for more concealment, make up and product smeared over discolored skin), "…. All the Arcobaleno carry a curse, however, and I feel obliged, being the leader, to apologize for how it has affected your life."

"Don't take that upon yourself," Ausiliatrice corrected her quickly, "You don't need that weighing on you."

Aria paused, reviewing Ausiliatrice once more. And then, in the next moment, that warm smile returned, and Ausiliatrice shifted, uncomfortable in its brilliance.

Not for the first time, Ausiliatrice considered her own morality. Her entire life, she was aware of the fragility of it, the threat of death that nipped at the heels of any living thing. Her job, her lifestyle, the world she was born into without approval; it was dangerous, and she was aware of this (craved this danger even, enjoyed it, the rush, the boiling of blood). But to see beyond, and know your death well before meeting it and shaking cold clammy hands, just as Aria did? It was angering, to Ausiliatrice, and she viewed this awareness, this gift (a laughable phrasing), as a curse.

Aria was the same age as Ausiliatrice, born around the same time, in the same year, and yet? Aria would die, soon. And this was an imminent fact, something not of her own consequence, was one of fate, something unavoidable (and Ausiliatrice hated that, despised fate and often sought to ignore it, but Aria? Aria was different)

"From the look in your eyes," Aria stated quietly, but accepting (a concept that Ausiliatrice could not comprehend), "you've already realized my circumstance and thoughts. You're perceptive," she said, her voice sowing it as a compliment, "but you also possess empathy. Which–"

"Is not a weakness, I know," Ausiliatrice finished, shifting her arms and looking to the side. Almost, she was feigning hostility, but oddly enough, she couldn't find it in her voice to express this.

"It was a bit of a rebellion, to go against my sight to seek you," Aria admitted, a frown skirting the outline of her smile, "but I learn as I grow older, so does this gift and for once… No," she corrected, "Not for once, I've thought this before – I'm glad I was wrong."

"I'm glad," Aria said, nearly choking out a small bauble of laughter, "to have met you, at least once. And I only wished I had made this move sooner."

"Yeah," Ausiliatrice, looking away and suppressing a scowl, "Me too."

(Hindsight was such a hindrance)

* * *

"Can you keep up?" Ausiliatrice called back, turning and falling into a light jog as she looked to the smaller figure running after her. Her breath slightly ragged, Chrome dipped her head, then reared it back up, determination in her eye.

"Yes!" She called out, and Ausiliatrice barely smiled before turning and making sure to run right alongside Chrome.

"Your body needs to get used to strain, in order for you to get used to supporting your organs under different circumstances," Ausiliatrice told her student, her voice normal and so unlike Chrome's labored breathing. Ausiliatrice, of course, noticed this, Chrome struggling;

"One more lap, and you can rest," she promised her student gently before they moved away from the stables. Dino leaned out from the entrance, where he had been about to lead his horse, surprised, but only barely so, that the two had started so early.

"That's Ausiliatrice for you," he muttered gently, moving to mount his horse. The animal huffed, almost a playful taunt, before beginning a gentle trot at Dino's command. The pace quickened and soon enough, they were galloping throughout the grand estate, easily and joyously. As always when riding (and so skillfully, so gracefully), Dino allowed his mind to clear and then wander:

(but the subject he wandered to? Often, if left his mind muddled)

To feel such a strong enamorment for someone he is so familiar with, but be able to separate this from the endearment he feels now; it was strange. The feelings of his future self were so strong and tangible to him, and yet? Dino was well aware that those feelings were not his own. And yet? There was a festering almost. And yet, and yet, and yet? Small embers, and seeing her like this? Being gentle with such resilience, seeing her treat Chrome, someone he viewed as soft and fragile once (but realized this mistake, because Ausiliatrice surely wouldn't take this girl under her tutelage if this had been the case, right?), with such strictness while acting so, so…. maternal seemed to be the word he was looking for, despite how odd he'd like to think it was to attach this to Ausiliatrice.

(but it was fitting, wasn't it? In a way, in many)

This was one of the reason his future-self fell in love with Ausiliatrice, and witnessing this now, right before his eyes, being privileged to see it himself? He recalled her around others, around children, and recalled her patience with them, exhibiting far more than with other adults, and he remembered thinking it was strange at the time, but now, knowing her so much better? It was a marvel, seeing how one could be so strong and soft simultaneously, and Dino almost questioned whether this was admiration or jealously. No, he confirmed, catching sight of Ausiliatrice and Chrome again, the older woman supporting the younger as they walked back to the mansion; it was admiration, what he felt towards Ausiliatrice. Or was that a lie as well?

(God, he hoped this was real, this feeling)

He didn't consider himself to be in love with Ausiliatrice in this present, and yet? Seeing her in times like this (being able to witness these instances many times, with many of the things she does),

He felt that he could, eventually, fall in love with this woman.

(Was this what this was? Love?)

(He hoped so)

* * *

Not for the first time, he considered what his life would be like without the cruse of the Arcobaleno. Reborn would like to think that this curse, this body, this form, was what truly stopped him from seeking out Ausiliatrice all those years ago, and yet? That was something he could never be sure of.

(but he'd like to think that he would have, he'd like to)

He'd like to think that he would reconcile with Esmeralda, and yet? That would depend entirely on a far too unpredictable woman (but a beautiful force, none the less). He'd like to think that they would raise their child together, and share that experience, filling in where the other possibly could not, and being a family, a true one, in every sense. He'd like to think that neither of their pasts would have stopped them from achieving this, he'd like to believe in this absurd fantasy without any criticism, and yet?

(He had never believed in fairy tales, even as a child)

Reborn had always been a cynic. Or perhaps, a realistic man was a far softer term. But that didn't change the fact nor the definition. He'd like to think he would have been brave enough to face his daughter, his own blood, the little girl with his eyes; but he knew, for certain, in this form he was cursed with? He could never, and that was a fact.

(He had always been a serious child, only finding absurdity in his later years, and seeing Ausiliatrice? He wondered)

He couldn't decide if it was luck, chance, or an act of fate that she had found him, and he did not know yet if this was a blessing or another curse that would follow him and haunt him (and taunt him, taunting him, jeering). He would like to think that it was a second chance,and yet

He did not know how to handle a flower when handed to him, too afraid to crush it in his hands.

But his daughter wasn't exactly a rose, was she?

(And neither was her mother, neither was her mother)

She was not girl who picked petals from flowers and bruised dainty things with wishes, and Reborn certainly wasn't idiotic enough to give her such a weak offering, but now? He had an opportunity to speak to her, to give to her, to offer her an invitation. He'd like to think he knew her well at this point, and he would like to think that she would take this invitation.

Who else would he ask to fight for him first than his own blood, after all?

(Perhaps, out of the three of them, he was the flower, the banquet)

(and they were the thorns)

* * *

 _"Ausiliatrice."_

"Reborn."

(Father)

Her answer was even, leveling perfectly with his.

 _"I have a favor to ask of you."_

* * *

"I feel bad," Meilin muttered, gently tugging the blanket to a firmer position, despite Suyin's frequent squirms and giggles (clearly finding enjoyment in this act of rebellion, even at this young age), "that I can't help with the battles. Suyin is just too young to leave alone." Her father walked placidly beside her, atop of the stone wall as they traveled through Namimori.

"Of course," Fon said, sending a soft smile back to his daughter, "I would never ask you to forsake my granddaughter for this. But you say that he will help?"

"Of course," Meilin murmured, looking to her daughter and rocking her lightly, the baby softly gurgling in response;

"What else is family for?"

* * *

Not for the first time, Tsunayoshi wondered if his often glorified intuition was a curse more than anything. And it was days like this, with Reborn acting strange (he smiled! Full on smiled without an ounce of smugness or a glint of ill intention in those eyes!), and the simple, lingering threat of tension that hung over him, that Tsuna knew something would happen.

Naturally, he was right (as always, Goddammit), meeting numerous and dangerous looking men lined outside of his house. With an undignified shriek, he sought sanctuary at the gate, hoping to get through before being pulled into whatever Reborn was planning, but ran into a familiar and friendly figure in plight of his beeline for peace (just once, Tsunayoshi thought to himself, he would like to have a normal day, just once).

"Dino!" Tsunayoshi said, looking up at the older man, his eyes immediately narrowing in suspicion seeing the demon tutor himself on the don's shoulders. "What are you doing here?!"

"Reborn said that he had a favor to ask," Dino said causally, slinging an arm around Tsuna, friendly and personable as always, but in the warmest aspect, welcoming, and this small gesture gave Tsuna an ounce of comfort if anything. Tsunayoshi blinked however, and looked around, just now noticing the absence of a familiar (but somehow _safe_ ) presence.

"Isn't Ausiliatrice with you?" he asked almost guiltily, remembering what happened at the ceremony. Dino opened his mouth to respond, but Reborn cut him off,

Humor glinting dauntingly in the hitman's eyes, as if about to tell a long kept secret and play it as a joke (only it was entirely at their expense):

"I already approached her on the subject," Reborn said, and with a suave tilt of his fedora, he added, "After all, it's only naturally that I would ask my own daughter to fight for me first."

From just the arm slung around his shoulder, Tsunayoshi could practically feel the warmth drain from Dino, and he was sure that the other man would be ghostly pale at this revelation. But instead of looking at the other, Tsunayoshi blinked, let out an awkward (forced) puff of laughter as he further processed and thought about this, and promptly,

fainted.

* * *

 _"A crown of roses is also a crown of thorns."_

 ** _-G.K. Chesterton_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Poor, poor little Tsunayoshi; his brain just overloaded and couldn't take all those thoughts all at once. A little shorter chapter I guess? But more of a prolouge for this arc (the last arc!). I had fun with this one, and had been waiting to introduce the comparison between Ausil and Aria for a while now. Also, the reveal to Tsuna and Dino, which will be addressed in the next chapter, don't worry~ And my baby Chrome. Chrooome_

 _The action comes in the next few chapters, promise_

 _Review Response:_

 _Guest (Chapter 7): Lmao nah man, you know he dead, lmao. Thanks for the review!_

 _-Evenly_


	36. Lesson 36: To Play

**Lesson 36: Her Mother Taught Her to Play**

* * *

 _"When you got skin in the game, you stay in the game. But you don't get a win unless you play in the game. Oh, you get love for it. You get hate for it. You get nothing it you wait for, wait for it, wait!"_

 ** _-Lin-Manuel Miranda (Alexander Hamilton: Hamilton: The Room Where it Happens)_**

* * *

Suyin gurgled happily, immediately upon Ausiliatrice's entrance at the door of the Hibari estate. Ausiliatrice herself reflected this amusement, but not from the childish excitement of seeing a familiar figure; Ausiliatrice's amusement (smug and evident on her face) was a direct result of Kyoya's expression:

Practically mortified, holding the now squirming child in his arms, and clearly embarrassed about his tutor finding him in such a vulnerable and revealing situation. Of course, Ausiliatrice found this scene far more endearing than degrading, but Kyoya's mind did not consider this.

"Ausiliatrice!" Meilin greeted happily, walking from the kitchen with a bottle in her hand and her father on her shoulder, "How nice of you stop by."

"You figured we would be here," Fon stated easily, his tone establishing that his words were no threat (a simple statement, and nothing more), "Does that mean you're fighting for your family as well?"

She barely raised an eyebrow at the slight quirk in his tone, not understanding the amusement in it (a jab? But at who?), and instead took Suyin from Kyoya's arms. The teen, as gently as possible despite the abrasiveness of his expression, pushed the child from him, still embarrassed but regaining composure quickly. He turned and sat on the couch, far from Ausiliatrice and his family, as Meilin handed Ausiliatrice the bottle.

"My visit has nothing to do with that," she assured Meilin as the woman sat down by her cousin (much to his chagrin and evident disapproval), "Although I did figure you'd be here," she addressed Fon with a slight nod, "It wasn't that big of an assumption. But I came to ask Kyoya a favor; two, actually."

The prefect raised an eyebrow at this, tension still present in his shoulders (always around her, taut with energy, animosity). A moment, and she waited for this; and he allowed her to continue.

"Chrome Dokuro," Ausiliatrice said coolly, maintaining such a rigid, professional façade while slightly bouncing Suyin, "She needs to be enrolled in Namimori Middle. Perhaps, with both of you being students of mine, you can take this opportunity to bond?" She said with a tilt of her head, a blatant tease, "After all, the two of you lack where the other succeeds."

He scoffed at this, despite the suggestion staining his thoughts enough for color to bleed through:

"You still have the audacity to call yourself my tutor?" He challenged. He was annoyed to be met with further amusement. She moved, shifting Suyin and leaning forward to hand the child back to her mother. Per usual, Suyin whined at the change of hands, but settled with familiarity after soft coos from both Meilin and Fon.

"As long as you have the audacity to seek me out and treat me as a goal to overcome," Ausiliatrice said coolly as she sat across in an armchair from him, "then I'll refer to you as such. I assumed you'd be delighted at the aspect of the battles, Kyoya, and use this as an opportunity to _truly_ experience the difference between us."

The air between them sharpened, to the point that Suyin quieted and listened, large eyes calm pools, looking between the two predators; the blood (inherited) in her veins bristled at the sudden tension between the two.

"I agreed to be his representative for two reasons," Hibari said coyly, lip nearly lifting to a snarl and fingers writhing for cool metal, "and one of my goals is to finally bite you to death, _Carnivore_."

A moment, air stiff and tangible and cutting, and Suyin whimpered.

"That," Meilin said lightly, but there was an edge to her voice, a warning, and immediately the two backed down at her placid request, "and I can't represent my father due to Suyin being so young. However, I figured this would be a great opportunity for us to meet in this timeline, right, Kyoya?" She asked, looking over to her cousin with a soft smile. He scoffed and rose elegantly, coat billowing as he made his way from the room. Her eyes, abyssal and never ending, remained on him, and he made the mistake of looking back at the command of her voice.

"I expect," Ausiliatrice called, causing him to pause in his exit, "no less than perfect from you, Kyoya."

(A prospect or a warning?)

"But," she said, turning her gaze away from him, dispersing the animus between them once again, "besides from Chrome Dokuro, my father and I have another favor to ask you…"

* * *

"How is that even possible!?" Tsunayoshi called out, putting both hands on the side of his head, "I mean, you're a – and she's like – " he gestured at Reborn and then gestured up in vague reference to Ausiliatrice's height, "and isn't she like, what, like older – older than you! And you!" he said, nearly turning on Dino, referring to him twice in panic and emphasis.

"Why are you acting so calm about this!?" Tsunayoshi accused the other boss, "She's your bodyguard, isn't she? You're around her all that time, and you didn't even know!?"

Dino reacted awkwardly at this, looking to the side as he ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to avoid looking at Reborn.

( _"And your father?"_ )

"I mean, it's not like I try to pry too much into stuff like this," Dino weakly defended himself, "and it's definitely not like she openly talks about this all the time, right? And honestly…" he trailed off again, eyes flickering to Reborn (who seemed to be taking Tsunayoshi's flustered rant with glimmers of amusement in his eyes, calmly drinking his espresso while enjoying the show), and nearly wincing before catching himself.

( _"He wasn't relevant."_ )

"I think I already knew?" Dino admitted, phrasing it as a question instead of a statement, "From my future memories, I mean. I just never thought about it?"

"What do you mean you never thought about it? She's a grown woman and he's a _baby_ – ACK!" Tsunayoshi yelped and jumped, immediately going to clutch his offended foot. Reborn stood, allowing Leon to morph from a large (cartoonish) hammer, back to a chameleon.

"That's actually what I wanted to discuss," Reborn said, allowing Leon to settle comfortable before sitting once again, "Great transition, Tsuna. Unless, Dino?" Reborn addressed, turning his eyes ( _her_ eyes, and really, Dino had known all along, hadn't he? It would be idiotic not to make the connection, even subconsciously),

"Do you have anything else to say about this?" Reborn asked, in a way that made Dino feel like this was a test, that this had a purpose (but everything Reborn did had a purpose, didn't it?). He stiffened considerably, pushing back his desire to squirm under his former tutor's gaze (like hers, but different, _different_ ; Ausiliatrice's, he realized in that moment, had a far more cutting glare, while Reborn's was more suffocating; but Ausil's? Her gaze drew blood)

"I mean…" Dino managed to puff out with a forced roll of his shoulders, "This doesn't change anything, with Ausil – liatrice, I mean. She's still the same to me. Reborn's our tutor," he addressed Tsuna, putting on a warm, crooked smile for the sake of his little brother, "and we'll fight for him with Ausiliatrice no matter what. That's how it's supposed to be, right?"

But Reborn knew he wasn't referring to the upcoming battles. And yet, the hitman let this pass (for now, for now), nodding in confirmation and moving on from this immediately:

"I suppose I should start with the dream."

* * *

Later that night, Dino brought up the subject rather awkwardly:

"So… you're Reborn's daughter."

She blinked, and looked over at him.

"Yes. Now read the text book back to me, with _perfect_ ," Ausiliatrice enunciated, "English this time. I will _not_ work with a fucking disgrace of a fake teacher."

"So you're just going to gloss over that fact," he asked dully, almost disbelieving.

"We have so far," she muttered, eyes skimming over the text book. He sighed, but it was light and airy and accepting. Another silence fell comfortably between them. Then, Dino spoke again, and his words? They surprised Ausiliatrice.

"So… what was your mom like? Not that you have to answer," he added quickly, seeing how she immediately looked up at him, "I was just wondering, you know? What kind of woman… really, who Reborn would fall for, you know? Just… curious. Sorry if it's invasive, you don't have to answer…" he trailed off, simmering to awkwardness once more. She blinked, slowly, and looked to the side, to the window to the sky (to the clouds, and the sun, now just meandering light reflected off the moon). Barely she opened her lips, and then formed a hard line with them.

"They didn't fall for each other. At least, I don't think she fell for him…" She was one to wander and leave a trail this time, as if still mulling over her words, this statement. She then confirmed:

"They weren't in love. Not the kind of love I consider to be genuine."

(But that was different, to the living, to the dead)

A moment, further serenity shared, and he spoke again:

"I'm sorry, Ausil."

And she looked at him again, eyes a gleam of emotion, but not finding offense. Perhaps a different Ausiliatrice would reach for this, but now? She no longer viewed his words to be pity, but to be an offered hand of condolence; not a cheap guess at understanding, but a genuine apology for what he cannot help with.

( _"Why do you do that?"_ )

"Why?" She asked simply, hesitating, eyes lingering and then refocusing on him. Soft brown met abrasive black, unblinking, and accepting, but with such melancholy. But this wasn't pity for her sake, she knew now.

( _"Why do you blame everything on yourself?"_ )

He opened his mouth with such delicate hesitation, and then humbly let it fall closed again.

"I don't remember my mother much," he admitted instead, "and I was just wondering…" She blinked and titled her head, almost curiously. Hesitation, displayed in her this time, and she lifted her hand to gently place it on his cheek, turning his face to her.

She opened her lips, and barely leaned forward before pausing again, and letting her body stiffen before speaking softly into the air shared between them:

"I am too."

* * *

 _"I…" He allowed difficulty to be expressed clearly in his words, knowing now that there was no point in hiding these emotions from his own daughter (not at this point), "I should have approached you with information regarding this long ago. But mistakes were made–"_

 _"By you," she reminded him, the statement so truthful that it was not even harsh, "and my mother."_

 _(because, even if Ausiliatrice often did blame herself in her younger years, she was old enough to know now that children had no control over these things)_

 _"Yes. Esmeralda," he agreed with the dip of his hat, swallowing his pride dryly (speaking her name as if that would hand him forgiveness, as if that translated to an apology), "It's time I told you about the curse of the Arcobaleno. I'd like to say that it was the curse that kept me from…. finding you."_

 _Her smile was crisp and forced, matching her words:_

 _"But we both know that's not true," she said as she sat on the roof, knowing her own hypocrisy well, but feeling callous about it at this point. Shifting, he sat beside her, taking off his hat and placing it between them. Leon crawled from it, and Ausiliatrice allowed the chameleon to climb onto her hand before lifting the animal closer; it was the first time she had seen her father's companion in this detail, touched him, inspected him so closely._

 _"I wasn't like this when I met Esmeralda," he began, choking out her name again and allowing it to echo between them, "and I believe you were born right before we were brought together and cursed. The Arcobaleno that is. The world's strongest."_

 _She allowed him to continue, her eyes never leaving the small animal on her finger._

 _"The man with the checkered face, with the iron hat; he gathered us together and cursed us," Reborn went on, and only at this, did she glance over, seeing such anger reflected in her father's eyes (but was it for his own sake? This hot offense he was displaying?), "and after the curse? Our appearances changed, and we were left to live our lives in these weak bodies, limiting the power we all once had," he concluded, lifting his own small fist, allowing fingers to curl out before they snapped violently back to his palm._

 _"Everything is limited, no matter what skill we were known for; our strength, balance, flames, even the small things such as taste, little moments that were once cherished…. " here he trailed off again before added with a quiet voice, "Relationships, love, family; that man took it all from us, and we still don't know why. And now?"_

 _"He came back," Ausiliatrice concluded, not feeling pity for her father, but? Something, surely, stirred in response to this._

 _"And had the audacity to dangle the possibility of freedom in the form of a sick game that pits us against each other," Reborn spat, and this, the anger and offense, Ausiliatrice could find some relation to._

 _"No one," Reborn confirmed darkly, already knowing, "will win this. But, I'll take advantage of the opportunities it presents."_

 _Ausiliatrice scoffed at this, dull amusement sparking._

 _"You think that this is an apology?" She questioned him. Abyssal eyes (her own) flicked to her, almost smugly, jokingly:_

 _"We both know that it's the closest I'm going to get to one." She scoffed once more, but there was a ring to it: laughter (and he realized that this was the first time he heard his daughter's laugh)._

 _"And I assume the other opportunity you're referring to has to do with Tsunayoshi?" She moved on, mirth lingering on her expression even after the sound had faded._

 _"Always."_

 _"Truly," she said, lowering her hand and allowing Leon to return to his master, "you are selfish."_

 _"My students come first," Reborn told her, voice edging to solemnness as he reached to place his hat back on his head, "It's my duty as their tutor to take advantage of every opportunity of growth that becomes available."_

 _Then what about your daughter? In what place does she come to you, Ausiliatrice thought, but knew it was futile to vocalize this. He was well aware, well aware._

 _She hummed, leaning back on her arms further, looking to the sky, the stars (just suns, multiplied and distanced). She spoke:_

 _"I'll fight for you," she answered him, "but know I'll be taking advantage of these battles as well. Don't forget, I have students too."_

 _A pause, and then a smirk; Reborn stood to his full height and turned away from her, pulling his fedora to cast a shadow over his features as he walked away._

 _"I'd expect no less."_

 _(Like father, like daughter)_

* * *

"For such a small town," Ausiliatrice commented lightly, causing Chrome to looked over from where the younger had been inspecting the window display of the shop they stood outside of, "Namimori is rather crowded, don't you think?"

With a quick blink and with a slight turn of her head, Chrome looked in the direction her teacher was facing; Chrome's eyes widened only slightly, seeing a familiar group stalking towards them, civilians giving wide berth even without knowledge of their profession. Then again, one would be daft if they didn't at least acknowledge the pure bloodlust the assassination group was too prideful to suppress. And their leader? He was as arrogant with this as always, Ausiliatrice noted with amusement.

Xanxus's eyes glinted and seared with excitement when meeting Ausiliatrice's own abyssal ones. The woman barely shifted her own stance, only changing the weight in her hips and crossing her arms elegantly as the group stopped in front of the two. Squalo roared out a greeting as always, and Chrome shuffled her feet, unsure of the air between them; dangerous? Or a strange type of welcoming. It seemed like only Ausiliatrice and Xanxus knew the exact connotation of their relationship. And even then?

"Fighting for your old man?" he sneered in sequence of a greeting. Chrome blinked and leaned forward slightly to look to Ausiliatrice in response of such a blunt comment, but saw that her teacher's face was chilled and even breached with a small smirk.

"Like I'd miss an opportunity to face such a _colorful_ variety of opponents," she responded, completely blasé. The two were casual and respondent of each other, which Chrome felt she should have found odd, and yet? The air she was breathing now felt more natural, and briefly she wondered if she was just getting used to being around more dangerous people.

"You better not spend all your time babysitting," Xanxus spat, narrowing his eyes in warning, "I want a full fight with you, got it?"

"Who says I have the patience for that?" Ausiliatrice called out, showing the first ounce of offense, "Rest assured, I won't be holding back either; it's been a while since I've been able to truly let loose, after all, and I plan to enjoy every moment and opportunity these battles present."

Xanxus's grin grew feral at the prospect of this, and this excitement flooded to his followers.

"I'm looking forward to slicing those brats to bit," Squalo snarled, stepping forward. Cementing her feet, Chrome only leaned back slightly at this, still unsure whether to react to the heavy aura the group was producing. The young prince snickered, furthering Chrome's uncomfortableness.

"The prince can't wait to finally fight the _great_ Atalanta," he giggled, but his light and playful air soon snapped, and the boys' expression withered as his boss reacted violently. Red eyes turned swiftly to his subordinate, and the boy took an immediate step back, nearly running into Lussuria behind him. Even Levi barely shifted, uneasy with the sudden change in his beloved boss. Squalo was the sole member to meet this aggression with casual annoyance (with a brief click of his tongue and a roll of his eyes), while Mammon stiffened, watching and observing (as illusionists do, as they do).

" _You_ ," Xanxus spot, a warning, clearly, clearly, "won't be fighting her. She's _mine_."

Chrome stood stone as well, her body wanting to quake, but her will stopping it. Like Mammon, she watched, and watched carefully. She was fascinated now, looking with keener eyes, at how Ausiliatrice and Xanxus reacted to each other. And Ausiliatrice's reaction to such a possessive statement?

"Selfish as always," Ausiliatrice said, only a light jab in response before flipping long dreads over her shoulder and walking forward. Lightly, she gestured to Chrome, "Come along, Chrome. I'm not done shopping yet."

Chrome blinked, hesitated, then bowed to the group before running after her teacher, facing difficulty when keeping up with Ausiliatrice's long strides.

(but she kept up, none the less)

Chrome was surprised, however, seeing that Ausiliatrice was heading for a specific person instead of a store, and quickly, an almost disappointed look overcame Chrome's expression when she recognized that person, sprawled on the ground.

"Dino-san…" the girl muttered, watching as Ausiliatrice immediately stopped to pull a fallen man up by the hood of his jacket. Dino covered this plight with a natural, crooked grin, running a hand through his hair and brushing his clothes off when Ausiliatrice released him.

"Sorry, the pavement must be uneven," he lamely excused himself, coughing into his hand and looking the other way. He blinked, recalling, and addressed, "Were you two just talking to the Varia?"

"Mammon's representatives," Ausiliatrice answered simply, but continued before he could further question, "but that should be the least of your worries. You're lucky that the Varia didn't see you fall on you face. And if you pull a stunt like that and embarrass me tomorrow?" She said, eyes narrowing as she leaned forward. Dino let out an awkward trifle of laughter as he leaned back, arms up in defense.

"Oh, come on, Ausiliatrice," he said, his smile much more forced now, "I'm not that embarrassing, right?"

"…."

"You're not answering, Ausil."

"I'm saving you grace," she tutted, shoving the bags she had been carrying on her arm to him and walking away. He sighed, but it had mirth to it, and watched her go before following with Chrome. The girl looked between the two before speaking to him:

"Are you two meeting with someone, Dino?" Chrome asked him. He blinked and looked over at her, a smile playing on his lips once more.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug, "you can say that. It's really more business than anything, but I'm pretty excited about it, and I can tell," he said, nodding his head in reference, "Ausil is too." Chrome titled her head in response, her eyes barely narrowing as she acknowledged the shortening of her tutor's name.

"Why?"

"Because," he said, smile fledging into a full grin, "we're getting new toys."

* * *

She paused, and her reflection followed in suit; her abyssal eyes traveled from her hair (intricate dreads, further styled and braid together, half of them gathered and pulled up, leaving lower portions hanging and spilling over her shoulders), and then meeting in the space where they were supposed to collide; but glass and shards and reflections separated this, made this untrue, an illusion. The only true contact her eyes would have with others just like them is when she looks down and meets her father's. Her hands had slowly descended throughout this observation, and then moved to smooth the soft folds of her dress (a gift, a show of favor for the person they were meeting), then rising again to fix her simple necklace, holding the ring for only a second before her hand moved to her face,

and she moved her own head gently to the side, reviewing her own profile and wondering:

How much did she truly receive from her father? She looked like her mother, and for that she was glad, but as for Reborn? Besides the eyes (always, with the eyes), she guessed her nose; it was not as wide as her mother's, and it was sharper, she noticed while touching it. And then her cheekbones, she recalled, her hand travelling again, she had his cheekbones, did she not?

She tried, tried her best, and even closed her eyes momentarily in attempt to imagine her father in his true form; she tried to imagine the man who gave her these features. The tint in her skin, obviously, not as dark as her mother, a few shades off; she was lankier, if slightly, than her mother, and that was from him, was it not? She tried to translate his features now (young and overly large, cartoonish and warped) and project it to a figure of a man, an assassin, a hitman (the best), confident and suave. She tried to her imagine her father, as he was when her mother met him, and was frustrated to find a blank shape, a vague outline of a man in her mind.

But did she need to conjure such an image? Did it matter what her father looked like then if she had him now, trying to at least acknowledge and be around her? Because despite this, no matter what,

there was blood between them (you could _see_ the blood between them). This is was clear, this was evident, obvious. And neither of them asked for it to be like this? For this connection, this tether,

(to be a father, to be their daughter)

And in that moment, with that question, her hands traveled again and rested below her stomach, and a different question came to mind, a thought (a hope?).

(What choice would she make, in the end?)

"You ready, Ausil?"

She blinked, her eyes flicking to Dino's own reflection in the mirror, where he was leaning through the open door. Another blink, and she took her hands away from her abdomen as she turned, and walked forward as she moved hair from her shoulder with an sophisticated flip.

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected, poking him in the forward as she neared, "and don't be so familiar with me when you're around Hera. She's a snake, truly, and will strike at any weakness you show."

"Since when is me being familiar with you a weakness?" He questioned, rubbing his forehead (dramatics, seeing that she didn't actually poke him hard; his slight smile another give away). She gave him a simple look and he moved on from this, continuing, "So, she's dangerous, huh?"

"She knows how to analyze people and pick them a part. A silver tongue, definitely, but she's armed too. Don't forget that and get distracted by Argus. In the end, if anything does happen–"

"And it won't right? Because you know her and she likes you, right?" Dino inputted, with a hopeful smile. Her expression nearly deadpanned, and she continued as they stepped into the elevator:

" _If_ ," Ausiliatrice enunciated, "something happens, Argus is the least to worry about. Hera's weapon utilizes her flames. She keeps her rope darts wrapped under her sleeves and has very easy access to them; if anything drops from her sleeves, defend immediately with your own flames. I doubt she's laced them with poison or chemicals today, however," Ausiliatrice admitted with a slight tilt of her head, recalling another incident (the image of Janus's scarred arm flickering in her mind), "she has come _prepared_ to simple meetings before."

"And it always pays to be vigilant," Dino said with a sigh, hands going to straighten his tie as they stepped into the lobby of the hotel. He blinked however, and even Ausiliatrice expressed slight shock seeing two familiar figures;

Tsunayoshi nearly dragged his feet, body slumped and tired, as he walked beside his tutor. Despite the boy looking exhausted and even somewhat covered in specks of debris (and was that gun powder Ausiliatrice smelled? Like Xanxus, she realized, and suddenly it clicked), Reborn looked rather excited. The Arcobaleno held a case in his arms, and was inspecting it with gleaming eyes of interest.

"What are you guys doing here?" Dino addressed, picking up his pace as he neared, "I told you that the dinner was tomorrow night, not tonight!"

"We decided to come a day early," Reborn chirped.

"And you were greeted by the Varia," Ausiliatrice guessed easily, looking at Tsunayoshi with slight concern.

"Belphegor kidnapped me…" the boy muttered, still slumped over. Ausiliatrice hesitated, then gave Tsunayoshi an awkward but reassuring pat on the back. The boy sighed, but seemed to appreciate the gesture despite looking at Ausiliatrice with a rather odd gaze.

"In the end, it benefited us," Reborn moved on, presenting the suitcase to them. After sharing a look with Ausiliatrice, Dino reached forward, taking the suitcase before opening it, making sure Ausiliatrice had a clear sight as well:

Watches, organized and neatly lined met them. Ausiliatrice's eye barely narrowed, seeing her father's name printed on all of them.

"Timed battles?" She clarified, her mind racing and putting pieces together, "and a boss watch? That means the objective is destroy the watches then?" With a flicker hesitation, Reborn nodded.

"While we were with the Varia, a representative of Checker Face met with us," The Arcobaleno explained, "He gave us the watches and explained the rules; a battle will be held every day, and will have a certain time limit. Each team has eight watches in total: One boss, six team watches, and one for the Arcobaleno. If a regular watch get destroyed, that person is out. But if a boss watch is destroyed?"

"The entire team is out, right?" Dino finished with a frown, shutting the suitcase and handing it back, "We should hold a strategy meeting soon then. We have enough people already to fill the slots, right? When do the battles start?"

"Four days," Reborn answered, "Which gives us time to gather weapons and make alliances."

"Alliances?" Dino echoed, "Does that mean we're allied with the Varia?"

Ausiliatrice remained silent, still in deep thought about the watches. She opened her mouth to pursue the exact details of the Arcobaleno watch, only to be cut off before the words left her lips:

"As if we would team up with scum like you, Bronco!"

They turned to see the Varia once again stalking towards them, Xanxus smirking when seeing that Ausiliatrice was there. Tsuna stiffened immediately, straightening like a board and shrieking.

"Again! Why are you guys down here?!"

"Our room was completely trashed, remember?" Lussuria reminded them, "So we decided to come down and eat at the restaurant."

"What a coincidence, Dino is taking us there tonight too," Reborn chirped, and immediately, Dino turned on him.

"I said tomorrow! Don't decided these things for yourself!"

Ausiliatrice, however, gave Xanxus an accusing (knowing) look, in which his response was a click of his tongue and the slight turn of his head, the skin on his face barely shifting in color at her (accurate) allegation.

"He shot the fucking roof," Squalo answered her questioning gaze, earning a snarl and a glare from Xanxus. After a brief bark back at his boss, Squalo addressed Dino, clearly taunting and enjoying seeing the boss's stress, "It'd be nice is we could have a quiet meal, right Bronco?"

"I don't have time for this," Dino grumbled, running a hand through his hair and then looking at his watch, "We have somewhere to be too, you know!" Ausiliatrice blinked and then scowled, taking Dino's wrist to look at the time as well.

"She should be here any minute–" and Ausiliatrice barely winced (far more of a scowl) as a placid, twinkling of a voice cut through the air.

"Such a lively group to greet us," Hera called, approaching the them, heels clicking and echoing as the party grew silent. Argus followed her boss as always, carrying multiple and large cases, easily. The assassins of the group grew tense, and Dino immediately went to step in front of Tsuna, his expression serious yet diplomatic.

Hera smiled, but as always, there was edge to it, _intention_.

"The Varia," Hera addressed, daring to look Xanxus in the eyes, "What a _quaint_ surprise to run into such a formidable group, and with their leader present, no less. And the Vongola Tenth himself," she said, far happier and even clapping her hands lightly together. Tsunayoshi was uncomfortable clearly, but stepped out from behind Dino to better look at the unfamiliar woman.

Xanxus, naturally, grew angry at this switch, at the tone, but Ausiliatrice shifted, putting herself in front of him, and looking back in warning. He growled, but quelled, picking up the meaning behind her look. Hera was playing with them, but they weren't mice and Hera was no feline.

(But oh, could she poison, a reptile)

"I'm afraid that due to the excitement of the inheritance ceremony," the woman said, eyes barely narrowing as her fingers gently pressed to her lips, "we weren't able to properly meet, Vongola Tenth. Ah, but excuse me; I suppose you haven't properly earned that title yet due to that _unfortunate_ interruption."

"Hera."

Ausiliatrice's words were cutting and quick. Clearly, a warning (the first). Hera hummed, cutting her eyes to Ausiliatrice before continuing.

"But where are my manners? I am Hera," she introduced, stepping forward and holding her hand out, "leader of Olympus. And rest assured, all my heroes, assassins, mercenaries, thieves, elites of _all_ trades, are always available to esteemed individuals such as yourself, Vongola."

Tsuna stared at the hand extended to him, and hesitantly, he extended his own to shake it. Laughter, light and crisp, but still cold, bubbled from Hera.

"Oh, Vongola, don't you know that you're supposed to kiss a woman's hand when she present it like so?" She teased, pilfering her hand lightly. Tsunayoshi stiffened once more, and at his look to Ausiliatrice, she intervened, actually putting herself between the two.

" _Hera_."

The second and last threat; but Ausiliatrice questioned whether Hera deserved even that. She was overstepping, and they were all aware. Ausiliatrice supposed she was as well, with how Argus moved forward when Ausiliatrice did, but the Varia was posed for action as well, along with Dino and even her father.

Calling the situation tense was an understatement, but Hera seemed to take this thrill with ease, breathing heavy air easily.

"A pleasure," Hera said, nodding to Tsunayoshi then Xanxus, taking a wise step back, "but I'm afraid I'm here for other business, and have no time to _chat_."

She took her time turning, observing the group once more before walking again. Ausiliatrice clicked her tongue, allowing Hera and her bodyguard to enter the dining area first before looking to Dino.

"Let's go," she said, nearly spitting the words out, clearly pissed. Dino hummed in acknowledgment, straightening his tie once more before addressing Reborn and Tsunayoshi.

"We'll meet up later," he promised them as he walked backwards, "we just have some... business to take care of first."

He then turned and nearly ran to catch up to his own bodyguard.

* * *

"He's fourteen."

It was an immediate accusation after they had sat down, now secluded from the rest of the restaurant. Hera barely hummed, her eyes glinting as she lifted her chin, looking over at Ausiliatrice.

"And soon to be crowned king of the underworld. And besides, we all," she said, gesturing around the table, "know that in this business, age doesn't matter." There was a darker tone to her words, but she clipped past it.

"You were playing," Ausiliatrice stated coldly.

"What's the point to a game without stakes my dear," Hera responded with a cold smile, "Now if you don't mind, I think we should move on from this, don't you?" She addressed, looking to Dino. Without hesitation, he nodded once, sitting strong and confident, while maintaining a certain casualness in the way that he rested his arm on the table and leaned back only slightly.

"You have them then?" Dino said, and Ausiliatrice leaned back herself, crossing her arms (miffed, pissed), allowing Dino to take over from here. This, she thought to herself, is why she brought him, after all. One of the reasons she respected him; his diplomatic skills, negotiating smoothly and skillfully. This was a grace she would never achieve, and she accepted this, willfully and fully.

"Please, Cavallone, what do you take me for?" Hera challenged slyly, gesturing lightly with her hand. Argus moved forward, placing one of the cases on the table and opening it.

Ausiliatrice's eyes lit instantly as she leaned forward to inspect. Dino kept his tact, but hummed in approval.

"And the cost?" He questioned.

"I believe my most requested assassin has that covered," Hera answered with a crooked smile, eyes flitting to Ausiliatrice. Dino looked at her in question, not knowing this, and concern reflecting in his eyes.

"And the other weapons I requested?" Ausiliatrice moved on, translating her look to Dino ( _We'll talk later)_ before nodding to the other cases.

"Here as well, and refined from your last session with us," Hera said, allowing Argus to shut the first before showing the other cases. Tenderly, Ausiliatrice stood and leaned forward, picking a weapon out from its container;

The ax she held glinted beautifully before Ausiliatrice put it down next to its partner. She had a warm smile on her face as she did this, and briefly, Dino wondered why.

"Interesting choice, I'll admit," Hera mused knowingly, smiling as well (with a much softer edge, somehow), "but the guns you requested are also included. These should help you on your many upcoming missions as well, Ausiliatrice. These things _aren't_ cheap, after all."

"I know," Ausiliatrice responded coolly, sitting once again ignoring Dino's look.

"Not to mention, since Janus's disappearance, I'll be sending you on more infiltration missions," Hera sighed, structuring this as a light complaint. Ausiliatrice however, took interest in her words.

"Disappearance?"

"You haven't heard?" Ausiliatrice barely snarled at the tone, and wisely, Hera continued, "Janus hasn't been seen for quite some time. As you know, the Cervello and Olympus still do business quite often and benefit from each other, but they missed our last check in. I've even sent some of our best after them, but," here, she made a small shrugging motion, "nothing. It's as if they never existed in the first place."

Once again, Dino and Ausiliatrice looked at the other. And then, they moved on;

"If that will be all," Dino said politely, his hand moving to take the brief case.

"I," Hera said, causing his him pause. However, she seemed to be staring right at Ausiliatrice, " _will_ contact you later tonight with your first assignment. And I know that you won't disappointment."

"I never do," Ausiliatrice said blandly before standing and taking the other cases from Argus.

They did not speak again until they were well away from Hera, and only then did Dino ask:

"Why are you doing this, Ausil?" He addressed, looking at her and then the case he was holding, "You didn't have to get mine too, you know?" She shifted the cases she was holding to where she could poke him on the forehead.

"Ausiliatrice," she quipped, then continued, "And it will be more efficient this way, with both of us having the proper weapons in this fight. You know the Varia has made moves as well, and I refuse to fight unprepared."

"Are you really okay with fighting for Reborn? That isn't really your thing, right?" He asked, a derivative from pure curiosity.

"Why are you fighting for him, Dino?" She asked simply instead, her voice edging on cold and continuing to drop in temperature.

"He's my tutor, Ausil."

"He's my father," she reminded him, almost lashing out, "and I have my own motivations for participating, besides _that_."

(and what was _that_ exactly? What definition of forgiveness did they go by?)

"The information on Janus…" Ausiliatrice changed subject quickly, "It has me suspicious."

"What do you think happened?" He asked after sighing, knowing that pursuit wasn't efficient with her.

"Who knows? But I did actually have the thought earlier," she admitted, allowing him to open the door to their suite, "Reborn said that representative of Checker Face explained the rules and gave them the battles watches. If it were the Cervello, then don't you think he would mention that?"

"This does seem like their kind of thing," Dino admitted, handing the case to Ausiliatrice after she put her own down.

"Janus, with their self-proclaimed judge title," she said, rolling her eyes and opening the case, "wouldn't miss a game like this, with the strongest seven gathering their own representatives; the elite of the world fighting each other in a fucked up battle royal. And in the past, with every other instance like this? The ring battles, even Choice in the future?"

"The Cervello were there," Dino finished, understanding, "Then what does that mean?" She clicked her tongue, placing her new ring on her finger, flames of violet and sparkling yellow illuminating her features before speaking:

"It means there's there something bigger going on, and this battle? It's the center of it."

* * *

"Well if it isn't Ausiliatrice!" Iemitsu said with a hardy laugh and a stunning grin. Ausiliatrice retained her glower, fighting back the animalistic desire to hiss at the man and his brilliant façade.

"Ausiliatrice is that you?" Nana asked, sticking her head out of the kitchen, "How nice to see you again after so long!"

"It's nice to see you too, Nana," Ausiliatrice greeted, wiping her glare away and replacing it with a soft smile. Nana hummed happily, walking up to her, past her husband, and reaching for Ausiliatrice's hands.

"You have to stay for dinner! I insist!" The house wife told her with light force, "You and Iemitsu can chat while I finish up!" she suggested, looking happily between the two. Ausiliatrice's eye barely twitched before she covered this slip up. Iemitsu laughed again, and clapped Ausiliatrice's shoulder, causing her body to jerk.

"I would love to get to know such a good friend of my wife's!" He chirped happily.

"Unfortunately," Ausiliatrice said, her words forced between clenched teeth as her hand clamped down on Iemitsu's, "I can't stay for long. I'm actually here to see Tsunayoshi."

"Ah, that's a shame," Nana hummed with a slight frown before brightening again, "Well, be sure to stop by the kitchen before you leave. I might have something for you to take back with you, for you and Dino." She woman finished with a cute wink before returning to the kitchen.

Ausiliatrice tightened her grip, her hand still around Iemitsu's wrist. He had the audacity to show a bit of discomfort.

" _Never,_ " she hissed, glaring at him, "touch me so familiarly _ever_ again." He laughed once more as she released his hand, and he rubbed his bruised wrist; but this was more for dramatics than actual pain. She knew that didn't actually hurt the man; he was irritable but resilient.

(Young Lion indeed, she knew, she knew)

"It's nice that you're fighting with Tsuna," he said, still smiling as she moved past him and to the stairs, "That, and it's also nice that you're fighting for your father. I'm guessing you too are good now, then?"

"Iemitsu," she said, turning her head to glace over her shoulder, "We both know that you're in no position to comment on any relationship involving fathering. So, do yourself a favor, and try not to comment before you make a further fool of yourself."

And with that, she continued up the stairs.

* * *

Despite Ausiliatrice knocking on the door before entering, Tsunayoshi still managed to nearly fall out of his bed in shock upon her entrance. Naturally, this was accompanied by a small shriek that somehow translated to her name. She ignored this (or rather, took it as norm), and looked around the room instead, noticing the lack of a small figure.

"Reborn's not here?" she asked, looking back to Tsunayoshi. The boy blinked, calming down from his earlier, miniscule panic.

"He went out earlier…" Tsuna told her, her eyes clouded, clearly in thought. "Uh," he said suddenly, straightening, "no offense or anything… but why are you here?"

"For a test," She said simply, raising her hand. Tsuna blinked as her ring glinted.

"Is that…" he said eyes widening slightly. He jumped back, flames shooting from his finger as Natsu materialized. The small miniature lion looked at Ausiliatrice curiously, before shifting his eyes to the ring on her hand. With a soft, amused smile, Ausiliatrice knelt down, allowing the small lion to inspect her ring before it sparkled with yellow flames. The flames spiked further, and soon a shape emerged from the ring, forming a stunning lioness.

Natsu squeaked and shot back to behind Tsuna before tenderly peeking out from behind his owner.

"Atalanta," Ausiliatrice answered his question, allowing the lioness to lovingly rub against her owner's hand, " _My_ Atalanta. We just received our box weapons, with upgrades."

"Dino too?" Tsuna asked before becoming distracted again as Natsu slowly shuffled forward, closer to Atalanta. The lioness noticed this, her eye gleaming with interest. Slowly, she lowered herself, so that she was level with Natsu as the small lion approached her. Quaking, Natsu leaned forward, and Atalanta met him, poking him with her nose first before titling her head.

Natsu brightened at this, only to squeak again as Atalanta shot forward, picking him up by the scruff and repositioning him. After securing him with her large paws, she began bathing him with her tongue, Natsu mewling in protest before Atalanta growled softly.

Ausiliatrice laughed lightly at this, sitting down on the bed and watching the scene with amusement.

"She likes him," she assured Tsunayoshi, who witnessed this with a slightly bewildered expression, not knowing what to make of it.

"I-I can see that…" Tsuna muttered. An awkward silence (on Tsunayoshi's part and Tsunayoshi's part only) settled between them before he spoke again.

"Hey," he said, hesitating, thinking, "can I ask you something, Ausiliatrice?"

"Sure," she said causally, leaning back on her arms while crossing one leg over the other, "Go for it."

"Why…. Don't you not," he began, struggling, "like working with others? Like, I mean – why are you fighting with us if it's a team thing?"

She frowned at this, causing Tsunayoshi to stiffen, thinking he had overstepped. But with a sigh he realized that this was not anger, but more of a soft exasperation she was expressing.

"I'm a bit disappointed, Tsunayoshi," she tutted, leaning forward and leaning her head on her hands and propping her arms on her legs, "I'm not Kyoya, Tsunayoshi; I don't break out in hives at the thought of working with others. And besides," she said so causally, almost warmly, "It was group work that brought me and my first partner together."

"You first partner?" He asked, blinking, "you mean... that girlfriend you mentioned in the future?" She barely smiled, amused that he recalled that conversation.

"No, that was Vivian," she corrected with a small shake of her head, "My first partner…. Mateus could have very well been the love my life," she said with another sigh, soft and sad. Atalanta looked up, finishing with her mothering, and immediately looked to her owner. The lioness mewled softly, watching Ausiliatrice look to the window.

"But, we can never be sure of that, can we?" Ausiliatrice continued, wistfully. She moved on, looking back to Tsunayoshi, "The point is, I'm not adamant against team work. In fact, I value its efficiency. But I also thought that you weren't one to assume, Tsunayoshi."

"Wah- I'm not! I mean," he back tracked quickly, blushing in embarrassment, "I try not to be, just – I'm sorry for assuming!" He said with a red face, quickly looking away. Ausiliatrice chuckled at this, and only went to ruffle his hair after he had looked back at her. Feeling further degraded, he quickly went to swipe at her hands as he leaned away, only for his face to grow somber once more.

Reflecting this, Ausiliatrice's face went neutral as well, and she allowed Atalanta to sit at her side and lay her head in Ausiliatrice's lap. Sensing Tsuna's uneasiness, Natsu went to him immediately, and burrowed to where his head was under Tsunayoshi's hand.

"I've…," Tsunayoshi began, struggling, and Ausiliatrice allowed him this. "I wanted to apologize. Reborn told us that you two were… that you were his daughter." Ausiliatrice's eyebrows drew together, displaying her confusion.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Well, I know – I mean, I've dealt with _distracted_ ," he said, wincing with the word, "fathers before... and I just don't want you to blame Dino or Reborn for that, I guess?"

"You think I would blame you for having the attention of my father?"

"I didn't mean to make it sound like I was assuming!" Tsunayoshi corrected quickly, putting his hands up, "it's just, I mean, if I had that situation… well, you know, my dad," he grew sad at this again, and his eyes flicked to the floor, gesturing to the first floor, where Iemitsu was no doubt stupidly smiling and keeping his clever ruse, while Nana forced a smile and knowingly lived this lie.

"Tsuna," Ausiliatrice addressed, putting her hand on top of where his had fallen to the bed, "I never blamed you or Dino for being my father's students. And that has no factor in my relationship with him. Do not," she said, far more of a command than a suggestion, "put the blame on yourself. Please."

He looked at her with large eyes, such a pure, vibrant brown (caramel, orange?). In that moment, she found herself comparing, and was reminded why she loved these eyes, brown eyes, and often found herself fascinated by them.

Gently, she lifted her hand from his, and moved to hold both sides of his head; leaning forward, she kissed fir forehead, gently.

"You and Dino have a lot in common," she told him as she retreated. Tsunayoshi blinked slowly and sighed before smiling lightly.

"...thanks."

"Also," she said, more as an afterthought while they were on the subject, "You should know; I hate your father." He let out a small puff of laughter at this.

"Yeah, I know… I kind of do too."

* * *

"Shouldn't children be in bed at this hour?"

Mukuro smirked, looking up as Ausiliatrice slid into the seat across from him. Namimori, even in a more populated area like where they were sitting, was scarce at this hour. Few people looked at the two as they passed, giving them a quaint, tangible privacy.

"Don't old woman need their sleep?" He shot back, then added with a glint, "I wouldn't think someone your age would be up unless they were up to something, hm?" She huffed, sipping her freshly brewed coffee before responding.

"I lead a rather uneventful life," she said coolly.

"The blood on your sleeve says otherwise," he teased, eyes lingering only momentarily on the bit of speckled scarlet on the inside of her jacket before a slight tug of her hand, effectively hiding it again.

"Who are you representing?" she bluntly asked, "This is too flashy of an ordeal for you not to be involved somehow."

"How perceptive," he purred, leaning back in his seat, "and if you must know, I am the Arcobaleno Verde's representative. A vile individual, all together," he admitted, and then nearly spat, "A _scientist_. But he provides opportunity that I cannot simply turn down."

"I'm surprised how easily you're bought," she quipped.

"Says the assassin for hire."

She shrugged, allowing him this, and then moved on once more:

"I'm sure you want to hear about how Chrome is doing?" She asked, phrasing it as a question only for his sake.

"Perhaps," he said, looking to the side, "I have been meaning to inquire about her, if I happened to run into you…"

"She's doing well, so don't feel the need to ask," Ausiliatrice said, bit of a snap in her voice, "Flourishing beautifully with the training I provided her, and she's keeping to it."

"Organs?" He asked quietly.

"Sustained. Her illusions are holding," Ausiliatrice answered, "She going to school with the other guardians and is enjoying it. She happy."

"Good," he muttered, and then looked away again, as if embarrassed by this display of concern.

"And you?"

"Hm?" He looked back over at her, and once again wanted to flee from her intense (knowing, knowing) gaze.

"Are you happy, Mukuro?" She asked carefully. He hesitated, opening his mouth, before his expression turned irritated.

"If anything, I'm annoyed. I've taken on a student of sorts. Did you know? We found Fran from the future, although I will admit there are times where I _regret_ finding him," he muttered, eye barely twitching in annoyance.

"Oh?" Ausiliatrice said, smile on her face as she put her arm on the table between them, leaning her head on her hand, "Having problems with teaching? You can always ask me for advice, you know. Both of my students are successful, after all."

"You label that monstrosity, Hibari Kyoya, as a success?" Mukuro shot back, "Honestly, did you really teach him anything? I doubt anything gets through the thick skull of his."

"Why don't you find out yourself, Mukuro," Ausiliatrice challenged, "After all, you two haven't battled since I've tutored Kyoya. I'd be interested to see the difference between you two now. Who knows? Maybe there's not one anymore, or, perhaps Kyoya has surpassed you entirely," she mused lightly before taking another drink of her coffee.

Mukuro smiled at this, his lips crooked and sly before answering,

"Who knows? I may just have to take you up on this little challenge."

(She almost felt guilty, using him like this. But, her students? They came first)

(Like father, like daughter)

* * *

"Um, Ausiliatrice," Tsuna addressed her. The others in the room (Ryohei, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Dino, and Reborn, naturally) turned their attention to her, "What do you think about this?" Tsunayoshi asked her, "About Byakuran and the alliance he offered? You've been quiet about this so far…"

Reborn resisted a smirk, proud that Tsunayoshi took measures to include the entire team. Despite the truth to the words, with Ausiliatrice simply standing behind Dino and observing as the rest vibrantly discussed Byakuran's return and offer, Tsunayoshi still respected her enough to genuinely want her opinion. And knowing this? Perhaps pride was too soft of a word.

Ausiliatrice hummed, considering before speaking:

"One thing you need to understand," she began, "is that he's not the same person; the versions from the future and the people we are now are separate. That, and if Uni chose him as a representative, she has a reason, and we have no right to question that decision. The only choice we have to make," she said evenly, eyes scanning the room, "is not whether we think Uni should trust him or not, but whether we should trust him in battle. And that decision is entirely up to either you or Reborn, Tsunayoshi."

With a dry throat, Tsunayoshi smiled and nodded, understanding.

"Now that we've discussed that," Reborn said, moving on as he opened the suitcase, "At this time, we need one more representative."

"And all the other representatives are strong, no matter where you look," Dino reminded them, leaning back in his chair, thinking of the ones they already know about.

"And don't forget, we don't who is representing Skull yet," Ausiliatrice inputted, "So as of now, that's a wild card."

"I doubt that lackey will be able to convince anyone formidable," Reborn dismissed, "But as for our last representative?" he asked again, holding out the last watch.

"It definitely has to be that battle mania…" Gokudera muttered, crossing his arms and looking the side irritably.

"Ah! That's it!" Tsunayoshi said, excited now, "It will be reassuring it he's a representative with us!"

"If your refereeing to Kyoya, I wouldn't get your hopes up. In fact, kill that dream now," Ausiliatrice stated, causing Tsuna to deflate, "Even if you did ask him –

"Which I did," Reborn chirped.

"He would refuse," Ausiliatrice continued, "One, because he would never want to work in such a large group in the first place. Two, he wouldn't be on the same team as me," she explained, pointing at herself, "because I'm one of his, if not his main target in these battles. And three? He's already on a team."

"Hibari's already on a team?!" Gokudera shot up in anger, "That bastard! Betraying the Tenth."

"Calm down, Gokudera," Dino said placidly, "He's fighting for his family; we can't really blame him, can we?"

"Family?" Yamamoto question, but Ausiliatrice moved on swiftly before that topic could be further delved into.

"But as for other candidates, I _insist_ ," she said, pinning Tsunayoshi down with her eyes, "that you consider Chrome."

"Wouldn't she be on Mukuro's team?" Gokudera questioned, suspicious and cautious as always.

"Mukuro and Chrome have severed their dependence on each other," Ausiliatrice informed them, and then with eyes cutting to Tsuna, continued, "and Chrome Dokuro is your Mist Guardian first and foremost. Do not forget this, Tsunayoshi."

He blinked and then nodded quickly. Yamamoto laughed, easily and naturally, erasing the bit of tension that had bled from the conversation.

"It will be cool to have an illusionist, right?" Yamamoto pointed out, "Since we have to go up against Mukuro, you know?"

"And Chrome has been training with Ausiliatrice," Reborn inputted, "so it will be interesting to see her progress."

Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed, meeting her father's gaze head on, and easily picking up the meaning in his words and translating his look.

"I promise," Ausiliatrice said with a rare bearing of teeth, "that my student will not disappoint."

* * *

"Why are we going to find Chrome?" Tsunayoshi asked, exasperated as he walked between Reborn and Ausiliatrice. He turned to the latter in question and gestured, "Can't you just ask her?"

"You're her boss, and she's your Mist Guardian," Ausiliatrice reminded him, "it's more meaningful if you ask her, and I'm sure she'll appreciate it more."

Tsunayoshi barely blushed at this, embarrassed at his own inconsideration. He quickly looked away from her, but found his eyes shifting back, observing her once more, as he had been doing through this entire walk.

He reviewed her features, and wondered; what was her mother like? Subconsciously, he had picked so much of Reborn out of her (even before he knew, he realized). And this was natural, seeing how much time he was forced to spend around his tutor. But her mother? The woman Reborn had a child with (because that's as much detail Tsunayoshi wanted to give to _that_ thought). Obviously, she got her skin color from that woman, her hair texture, features like that. But what about personality, accent, emotions, ideologies? What did her mother teach Ausiliatrice? Or was she too, an absent figure in Ausiliatrice's life?

"You should really think about stuff like this if you want to become a successful boss, Tsuna," Reborn commended, pulling Tsunayoshi sharply from his own musings.

"I don't want to be a – huh?" Tsunayoshi's head popped up from where he was glaring down at his tutor, and looked to the side, down the grassy slope and near the bridge they were nearing. "Is that Enma?"

A boy with red hair and a slightly scuffed uniform (a different style and darker than Namimori's), knelt in front of a smaller figure; the Arcobaleno Skull. Tsunayoshi stepped off the sidewalk and ran down the hill to greet his friend. Ausiliatrice and Reborn shared a look before following him.

"Enma, it is you!" Tsunayoshi proclaimed happily. The other boy looked up, and now closer, Ausiliatrice noticed a bandage and other scrapes on his face. She watched the two boys greet each happily, and stood back to observe as Reborn and Skull went back and forth with their dialogue per usual.

Enma and Tsunayoshi were alike, surely, but Enma? He was softer in a way. Just from witnessing their interaction now, she could tell that Enma was the calmer of the two, shyer in a way. While Tsunayoshi was quick to react and lash out (despite how weak-willed of a lash that may be), Enma's reactions had subtlety. A prime example being Tsunayoshi's' loud exclamation after learning that Enma was Skull's representative, and Enma responding to his outburst with a slight blush and soft laughter.

However, he grew nervous upon seeing Ausiliatrice, having looked up as Skull and Reborn argued (or rather, Reborn intimidated Skull, and made it clear that their teams _would not_ ally themselves), and took full notice of her. His eyes went to her leg, and she understood;

He felt guilty. Although, considering the last time they had even seen each other (if you could call that _incident_ a first encounter), one of his own had lacerated and encased Ausiliatrice's leg in ice. Perhaps that would garner some guilt, Ausiliatrice considered. But seeing him interact with Tsunayoshi, a part of her twisted and felt heavy as well, seeing this and seeing Enma quickly look away from her ( _afraid_ ).

This was a misunderstanding she wanted to clear, because she certainly didn't want such a good friend of Tsunayoshi's to fear her to this extent.

But before she could express this, her father turned abruptly and made his way back up the hill, effectively ending his negotiation with Skull (if you defined negotiating as threatening and pure intimidation). She huffed lightly, and turned as well, pulling Tsunayoshi's arm gently with her as he shouted back apologies to his friend;

Later then, she decided.

* * *

"I just had a thought," Dino said, blinking and looking over at as they got out of his car. Already, students were staring and many factors led to this; the fact that Dino chose to drive his Ferrari to school and the fact that two gorgeous foreigners stepped out of it being the main two.

"How ambitious of you," she said, causing his expression to deadpan.

"I was wondering," he said, moving on with mock offense, "if you were even qualified for this? I mean I'm definitely not, right?"

"Obviously," she said, moving ahead of him and walking it. He quickened his pace to catch up, papers already threatening to fall out of his bag.

"Rude," he tutted, with a lazy grin, slowing and walking in pace with her, "What makes you more qualified than me, huh?"

"Dino, how many languages do you speak?" She asked simply, and he blinked, immediately seeing where she was going.

"Fine," he admitted with a roll of your shoulders, "You're more qualified than me."

"In more ways than one," she said with a smirk and flip of her hair, stunning the students that passed them in the hallways further with her beauty. Dino's eyes twitched, and he opened his mouth to make a remark about how much attention she was drawing, but a familiar voice shrieked out their names before he could make his quip.

"What are you two doing here?!" Tsunayoshi yelled out, both hands holding the sides of his head. He stared at the two young adults in shock, mortified that they were here and gaining so much attention. Already, he had heard the rumors of two new, attractive teachers, but he had never thought to connect it to people he actually knew. Chrome, who was standing with her boss, along with Yamamoto and Gokudera, brightened immediately upon seeing Ausiliatrice, and the dark skin woman politely nodded back to her student.

"Didn't Reborn tell you guys?" Dino asked, chuckling lightly as he folded his arms behind his head, "We're going to be teachers here!"

"He doesn't tell me anything!" Tsunayoshi bemoaned, looking up to the ceiling, as if cursing his tutor's name. Ausiliatrce hummed, putting a finger to her lips, amused by this scene.

"It's more efficient for when they battles start," she explained to them, "And we came early in order to establish a routine, so we're prepared when they do begin."

"That's right!" Yamamoto said, putting his arm around Tsunayoshi (keeping his boss from sinking to the ground in exasperation in such a subtle and sly way), "The battles start in a couple days, right?"

"It'll be nice to have Ausiliatrice around," Chrome said warmly, her cheeks barely blushing as she smiled and dipped her head once more.

"It gives me more chances to bite her to death," a voice said behind the two adults. Dino jumped at this, and whipped around. Ausiliatrice, having sensed him coming, turned easily to meet his intense gaze.

"Save it for the battles, Kyoya," she told her other student placidly.

"With this arrangement," Kyoya basically purred, titling his head up, his eyes glinting, "I can keep an eye on you until then, _Carnivore_."

"Be sure that doesn't detract from our job," she responded, gesturing with her head to Dino as well, "We have a responsibility as teachers, you know."

He scoffed at this, and was about to turn on his heel to stalk away before two others entered the scene. Enma brightened immediately seeing Tsunayoshi, but nearly cowered back, noticing Ausiliatrice with the group as well. Adelheid Suzuki had a similar reaction, although showed far more aggression, becoming defensive and apprehensive immediately upon seeing (and recognizing, her eyes going to Ausiliatrice's leg, bared and showing scars due to her skirt) Ausiliatrice.

"You're…" Adelheid said, naturally stepping in front of Enma, her hand edging towards her skirt, unsure whether to draw her weapons or not.

"Hm?" Ausiliatrice cocked her head and reviewed the tall girl, "Ah, that's right. You're the girl who fucked up my leg at the ceremony."

Adelheid's eyes immediately showed regret, and her mouth moved to apologize, perhaps, but Ausiliatrice moved before the words could reach the girl's lips. The next sound Adelheid made was a wretched gasp as her body was slammed against the wall, Ausiliatrice's knee pressing violently against her midsection.

"That," the older woman said, stepping away and not even bothering to look back as Adel slumped and fell to the floor, holding her abdomen, "was for the ceremony. Don't cross me again."

"Ausiliatrice!" Chrome said, far more embarrassed by the woman's actions than mortified like the rest (excluding Hibari, who like Chrome, expected this from their tutor, but, who unlike Chrome, found humor, amusement and respect in this action). The girl sent rapid apologies to Enma, turning to look at Adel, hesitating, and then running after the woman, her school bag clutched to her chest.

Hibari Kyoya huffed once, and turned on his heel, following the woman as well, but at a far more distant pace than the mist that clung lightly to her.

Dino let out a loud sigh, running a hand through his hair before kneeling to help Adelheid. Enma was already at her side, hands hovering, unsure of what to do.

"Sorry about that," Dino apologized in lieu of his bodyguard, "Ausil can get–"

"No," Adel cut him off quickly, putting a hand out to stop him from helping her up, "I deserved that, after what I did."

"Adel…" Enma muttered, watching as the girl stood on her own, her hand still on her midsection, but realizing that the woman hadn't injured her too bad (she held back, Adelheid realized, but didn't know what to make of this). Tsunayoshi groaned loudly.

"Why did she have to make a scene," He complained, covering his face in exasperation.

"Honestly, with Ausil?" Dino said, allowing a casual smile to break on his face, seeing that Adelheid was fine and now walking away (Enma trailing her uncertainly, still worried),

"That could have been a lot worse."

* * *

"Hey, Enma," Dino called. The redhead looked up from his desk, where he had been gathering his things, readying to leave. Tsunayoshi, Gokudera, Yamamoto, and Chrome had already left, saying their goodbyes to Dino. In fact, at this point, most of the students had cleared out, leaving Dino and Enma alone soon enough.

"Y-yes?" He said as he neared the desk, unsure of how to refer to him (since, technically, Dino was now his teacher now).

"You mind staying behind a bit?" Dino asked, rising to gather the papers already strewn on the desk, "Ausil wants to talk to you." Enma blinked, registered the nick name. And then he immediately paled when he realized who Dino was referring.

"S-she does?!" Enma stuttered out, immediately thinking of the incident earlier with Adel. Dino laughed with good nature at this, putting his arms up to calm Enma.

"Relax, okay? She told me what she wanted to talk to you about before hand. And besides," Dino said, titling his head down, "she wouldn't actually hurt a kid unless she had to, you know?"

Enma gave him a nervous, disbelieving look.

"You'll be fine," Dino assured Enma, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I swear, she's a lot nicer than she acts, okay?"

Enma opened his mouth, still uncertain, still terrified, but the woman herself entered the room before he could speak.

"Look at this," Ausiliatrice said, holding a paper up to Dino. The man winced, and took it, squinting his eyes as her tried to read the nearly indistinguishable writing.

"What is it?" Dino said, his expression more of a wince.

"Ryohei Sasagawa's paper," Ausiliatrice nearly hissed out, clearly annoyed (which, naturally, made Enma more terrified than before), "Which is only a fraction worse than Koyo Aoba's," she said, her eyes sliding to Enma. He stiffened, both at the mention of his family member and the fact that her attention was now on him. He didn't relax when she looked back to Dino, slamming the paper down on the desk.

"Not only are their scores pathetic, but they're a _disruption_ ," she emphasized the word, "in class. I dealt with them today, but I doubt that they learned their lesson."

"What do you mean _dealt with_ , Ausil?" Dino asked, looking at her with mild concern.

"Whatever," she muttered, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she moved to sit on the desk, "I need to talk to Kozato. So, leave," she addressed Dino, gesturing with her head to the door.

Dino opened his mouth, and then closed it, letting his head fall before he pushed himself completely up and towards the door. Enma made a small sound, even reaching out as Dino left. The man, noticing this, gave Enma a bright smile and a thumbs up before leaving and closing the door behind him,

leaving Enma completely alone with Ausiliatrice.

He felt incredibly small and intimidated, even when she was in such a lax state; sitting casually on the edge of the desk, leaning back on her arms, and her ankles cross. She titled her head, and reviewed him, and he nearly squirmed under her gaze. Never more in that moment, did he feel so inferior. To have the eyes of a lioness on him, and not know of its intentions? It was both liberating and terrible (Just how, he thought, does one make small talk with a lion?).

"You're scared of me," Ausiliatrice stated simply. Enma opened his mouth, hesitating to answer, and then nodded instead.

"I apologize for that," she said, surprising him, "I don't…. Know that I wouldn't hurt you unless provoked, Enma Kozato."

"But with Adel–" he found himself saying before immediately shutting his mouth, regretting his words instantly.

"What Adelheid Suzuki did simply pissed me and off and inconvenienced me," Ausiliatrice explained, her voice cold and her chin tilted upward, giving her a standoffish appearance, "and my action earlier simply expressed that. And believe me, I could have done worse. But don't take that as a mark against your family, Kozato."

"What happened at the inheritance ceremony is in the past," she further explained, her voice and expression growing softer, surprising Enma, "and I understand the circumstances of it. Well," he corrected herself, turning her head to look out the window of the classroom, "I couldn't understand, of course. But I was informed. And I don't want you to carry a needless burden. Clear?"

And he found himself staring at her, half awed and half bewildered. He blinked, blushed heavy when realizing that she was waiting for a response, and nodded almost frantically.

"Now, if you excuse me," Ausiliatrice said with sigh, sliding off the desk and grabbing the paper she had entered with, " I have to turn papers in, and think of _proper_ motivation," she said with narrowed, glinting eyes, "for those two." She nodded a simple goodbye to Enma before leaving him alone in the classroom.

He blinked, and stared out the open door, watching idly as other students passed by, their chatter falling as mute on his ears. He felt underwater, floating, surreal in that moment after that conversation. It was odd, surely, that interaction, and yet?

Enma was glad to have it.

* * *

"Why are Sasagawa Ryohei and Koyo Aoba running laps around the school and yelling, _disrupting_ the peace," Hibari Kyoya demanded, bursting into classroom.

Ausiliatrice turned, standing at the board and pausing in her writing. The remaining students stiffened in their seats, looking between the two. The had been aggressively paying attention, having witnessed their new English teacher's _effective_ disciplinary methods on her first day. They were awed further, seeing how she fearlessly faced the Demon of Namimori himself, without batting an eyelash.

"It's their assignment. I told them that I didn't believe they could learn today's lesson _and_ beat the other in a race around the school, and they were _set_ on proving me wrong," she explained simply, and then glanced up at the clock, "They should be on their third lap now, I believe."

"So you set them loose on the school?" Kyoya challenged.

"It's either them disrupting the school or my class, and we both know that the latter will lead to me becoming _irritated_. And I doubt anyone would want that," she tutted, returning to writing on the board.

He narrowed his eyes, making a small, irritated grumble before turning to leave. Ausiliatrice, however, spoke up again, causing his to pause.

"Oh, and Kyoya? Aren't you in this class?" She asked, clearly smug, "Your seat is in the back, isn't it?"

"I," he said, holding his head higher, "go where I want." And with that and a billowing of his jacket, he left. She hummed, amused before returning to her lesson, and the rest of the students felt their bodies relax, relieved that the prefect was gone.

He'd be back, she knew, considering it was just a day before the battles.

* * *

"Okay, I'm just going to say it," Dino said, sighing as Ausiliatrice released his collar after placing him on his feet once again (he swore the floor was slippery, and therefore it was not his own fault that he just tripped and almost spilled all the papers he was carrying), "Your student following us around? He's terrifying!" Dino whispered and pointed back at Kyoya.

The prefect simply raised an eyebrow at this, having clearly heard the don. Ausiliatrice's expression remained bland as well.

"Kyoya said that he would follow me closely in case a battle breaks out," Ausiliatrice stated simply.

"This is basically stalking, Ausil!"

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected dully, poking him in the forehead before walking forward and into the teacher's lounge. Dino sighed, and then huffed, turning around the face Kyoya. The teen kept his simple, unimpressed look. Dino narrowed his eyes, and then put his papers under his arm, freeing his hands so he could make shooing motions.

"Shoo! Go away!" He chided, causing Kyoya's expression to verge on irritated. "Stop following us!" Dino whined.

"I'm not following _you_ ," Kyoya clarified, narrowing his eyes.

"I know that!" Dino shot back, "I mean, of course you're following Ausil, but can you, I don't know? Do it while I'm not around?"

"As soon this watch goes off," Kyoya stated, raising his wrist and pointing at the watch for reference, "I _will_ bite her to death. And I refuse to give her any chance to run away."

"Like Ausil would run away," Dino sighed, turning to walk into the room, "I'm sure she's just as ready to fight you, as you are to fight her, right Aus –" His words stopped abruptly, however, realizing that the room was empty. Hibari Kyoya stalked past him, immediately looking around the room before his angry (furious even) eyes landed on Dino. The man opened his mouth, an awkward smile on his lips, ready to give weak excuses for his bodyguard, but was once again cut off before he could speak,

By both of their watches blaring loudly, signaling the countdown to the start of the first battle.

"Since that woman ran off," Kyoya said, eyes glinting as he retrieved his weapons and bared them, "I suppose I'll have to take my anger out on you."

Dino stood before him awkwardly, a forced, empty smile still evident on his face.

"... shit."

* * *

Enma, seeing knives coming towards him, immediately raised his arm, activating his flames of gravity and moving to stop the weapons midair, but was surprised when the knives were knock off course before they neared him by… were those bullets? Enma blinked, and then paled, now seeing his attackers clearly; the Varia stood before him, but they weren't looking at Enma, much to his surprise. He grew colder, seeing a figure push past Surperbi Squalo, and stand at the head of the group, looking down and past Enma with an animalistic grin.

"Looks like I was right to come out for the first battle," Xanxus sneered, voice daunting and echoing, bouncing off the unfinished skeleton of the construction site they were standing in. Enma and Skull jumped, hearing a clear and placid voice answer back from behind them.

"How degrading, to pick a child for your first target," Ausiliatrice reprimanded as she stepped forward and past Enma, but there was no mistaking the edge to her smile and the excitement in her eyes. Chrome Dokuro stepped forward as well, but kept in line with Enma. The girl smiled and dipped her head as a greeting.

"We thought we'd help out, seeing who your opponents are," Chrome explained gently, causing Enma to blush.

"It would be shame," Ausiliatrice noted, turning her head to glance back, "to see such a good friend of Tsunayoshi's perish." Enma nearly paled at her wording, but perked up once again, hearing Ausiliatrice address her student.

"Chrome?" The woman said, turning her eyes back to Xanxus and the Varia, who were readying their weapons once again, "Let's start this with a flourish, shall we?"

Chrome smiled, and hummed lightly while nodding.

"Get ready," she told Enma gently, and that was all the warning he received before Chrome hit the ground with her trident,

throwing the battle into complete chaos.

(It was almost a challenge, to cause so much mayhem in the span of ten minutes. Ah, but Ausiliatrice adored challenges, and when it came to her students?)

(She taught them to rise above challenges)

* * *

 _"He loves me, he loves_

 _me not? I'm not a flower._

 _I'm the fucking sun."_

 ** _\- Sade Andria Zabala_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I feel like not much happened, and yet this is a hella long chapter? There is a ton of set up for the battles though, so that makes sense. And we're actually getting to the last few chapters? Honestly, I don't see this story going beyond four more chapters, and then? We're at the end._

 _ **NOTE:** Okay, so remember when I was talking about a Harry potter AU? Well I am still doing that, but I'm opening it up a bit more, since I've been late on that (Lmao, I've got all studios this semester except one class, kill me now). I'm going to do multiple AU snippets! So like, little tiny glimpses of Ausil (and maybe others) in other stories (so far I have plans to do Naruto, One Piece, Avatar/Legend of Korra, and even RWBY), so if you want to see Ausil in any other stories, then feel free to either say it in a review or message me and I'll see if I know enough about that world to work with, or can look up enough. I'll try to post these little snippets next chapter, and after that, if you want more, please put in an ask at the blog **she-has-her-fathers-eyes** , or you can put in an ask now if you don't want to wait until the next update. Also, to make this more fun, even if you're a fellow author and want to see Ausil interacting with your character, you can ask for that as well! Have fun with this, it's your reward for getting up to 700 reviews~ _

_Review Response:_

 _weaver yk: Reborn and Ausil kind of make up in this chapter? Well, they talk and that's something. Thanks for the review!_


	37. Lesson 37: To Grasp

**Lesson 37: Her Mother Taught Her to Grasp**

* * *

 _"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make you understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."_

 ** _-Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis_**

* * *

"So," Reborn chirped, his pitched voice a striking contrast against the gloomy air his representatives were emitting, "Let's hear about the results from the first day of the battle. What kind of fights did everyone get into? I'm excited," the hitman said, eyes glinting as he reviewed the group, "to find out."

Chrome barely shifted as the hitman's gaze passed over her, before her own eyes reviewed her fellow teammates. She seemed to be the only one looking up at the Arcobaleno, with Gokudera looking down at the floor, Yamamoto at the surface of the table, Ryohei, head leaned back and looking to the ceiling, Tsunayoshi looking into his lap (and with such an uncomfortable, dare she say frightened expression? With him, she was concerned), and even Dino, who's arms were folded on the table with his head resting in the them, was averting his gaze. Surprisingly, he was the first one to speak, addressing her.

"Chrome…" he murmured, voice muffled by the fabric of his jacket, "Chrome I need you to promise me something…"

"Y-yes, Dino-san…?" She ask hesitantly, unsure of the direction this was going.

"Please," he said, hand reaching out to grab her own hands (which were lightly clasped together, resting on the table), and gently gripped them, with urgency, but not with force, "Please, do _not_ ," he enunciated, finally lifting his head to look at her, eyes pleading and tired, "turn out like _him_. Please."

Chrome blinked, her mouth opening once, before she spoke, questioning:

"Like who…?"

"That _monster_ of a kid," Dino answered, letting go of her hands just so he could put his on either side of his head, "that Ausil trained. I mean, really! How can he be that vicious! I've never really had to fight him, I mean, not like this! He's a beast! And Ausil trained him!? I can't figure out if he chilled out because of that, or if she made him worse!"

And with that outburst, he allowed his head to the table once again (with a _thunk_ ).

"That woman was right about Hibari," Gokudera clicked his tongue, eyes stormy, annoyed, "He was Fon's representative after all. A betrayal!" he spat venomously.

"Speaking of Ausiliatrice," Tsunayoshi spoke up, quieter than usual, "Where is she?"

All eyes were suddenly on Chrome, and biting back shyness, she spoke.

"Well, after the battles…. Ausiliatrice," Chrome struggled, eye fluttering to the side momentarily as she struggled for the word,

"She wasn't in the best mood, exactly."

* * *

 _Chrome spun her trident, cutting Belphegor's wires and stepping out from where she had moved to dodge them. Enma, behind her, dealt with Leviathan and Lussuria, catching Lussuria's leg and throwing him to the side with his gravity orbs before surrounding himself with one, deflecting Leviathan's attack. Enma jumped as his back touched Chrome, but relaxed, recalling he had allies in this fight._

 _Or rather,_ an _ally._

 _"Where's Ausiliatrice?" Enma asked, turning his head to ask, and then nearly squeaking, breaking apart from Chrome just as Squalo separated them. The swordsman sneered, eyes quickly going between to two to decide the larger threat before he looked to his watch, checking the time (only six minutes left, and these brats still aren't dead; an annoying fact entirely due to the illusionist and their lack of). He growled, annoyed further when his swing at Chrome hit mist, and he turned to see the girl quickly pull the boy to the side. He stepped forward to pursue, but then quickly dove the side as well, just as a fiery blast of flames nearly melted the area where they once stood._

 _Two large beast then tumbled into the still smoldering landscape, rolling violently and lashing out with their claws. Atalanta roared as she pinned Bester down, only for the Liger (covered in stripes at this point) roared back, grabbing her neck and throwing her to the side. The lioness rolled and caught herself, and as she did, the fur shifted and changed, sporting spots and now armored. Meleager, larger now and more muscular, attacked Bester again, taking the Liger with far more force now._

 _The owners of the beast followed in suit, mirroring their box weapons with violent lashes and vibrant shots of flames, coming into close contact before breaking apart and attacking at a distance again. Both Ausiliatrice and Xanxus bore bloodthirsty grins as they exchanged blows, liberated with this battle and neither holding back. Although Xanxus clearly had more power in flame, Ausiliatrice held tact with her weapons and delivery, evening the playing field between them._

 _The others watched (almost in awe) as the couple passed, and as quickly as they came, interrupting? They were gone, moving on once again, their battle both vibrant, beautiful and ferocious._

 _"There she is," Chrome breathed out, having wisely used that moment to catch her breath. Enma blinked, expression a picture of disbelief, before he was roughly thrown back into the fray of the battle._

 _"We need," Chrome eventually stated upon her and Enma reconvening a minute or so later, the two pivoting and switching opponents in order to hold their own against the Varia, "to get to Ausiliatrice and work together!"_

 _"No offense or anything, Chrome," Enma said, stepping out and throwing his arms up, stopping other knives from reaching them before they were both forced to retreat due to Leviathan's lightning, "but it looks like Ausiliatrice is… enjoying herself?" he said, looking to the side and seeing large flares of flames in another area of the construction site they were fighting in. Chrome made a face, seeing the undeniable truth of his words._

 _Her mind raced, and for a moment, Chrome felt panic seize her, as her blocks become sloppier. Enma, noticing this, sent a worried look her way. And that? Seeing his deep concern and realizing that someone needed her (knowing what Ausiliatrice expected of her, knowing that Ausiliatrice left her on her own for a reason, because she_ trusted _Chrome), the illusionist forced confidence into her voice._

 _"We can do this!"_

 _"We can?" Enma said, still in disbelief, "And how exactly are we going to do that?"_

 _"We defeated Daemon Spade, didn't we?" Chrome reminded him with an awkward, small smile of reassurance, "and we only have four minutes left, so as long as we – move!"_

 _She quickly pushed him to the side, and raised her trident, meeting Squalo's blade just in time. Enma went to help her, but was occupied by the remaining members of the Varia, effectively pushing him back,_

 _and separating him from Chrome._

 _"You brats think you can win?" Squalo sneered as Chrome braced her trident against his sword, clearly struggling. He scoffed, pushing further, "Pathetic. You don't have a fucking chance, baby trash. You can't win against us."_

 _"We might not…" Chrome mutter, defiant as her eye looked over his shoulder, "But she can!"_

 _Immediately, Squalo's eyes widened, and he turned, bracing himself as Ausiliatrice come toward him. He blinked in surprise however, as her form dissipated into mist. He yelled out, and turned, seeing Chrome running away from him, spinning and waving her trident in a wide arc, her form disappearing with this movement._

 _"God dammit," Squalo spat before stalking forward, set on hunting down the illusionist._

 _Enma, meanwhile, wasn't having the same luck as Chrome. And Skull? He was panicking as well, watching his guardian mercilessly beaten by the Varia._

 _"What am I going to do?!" Skull relented, holding both sides of his helmet in distress, "That girl is distracted by the silver haired guy, that bitch is fighting that scary guy, and that creepy blonde is going to have Enma pinned any minute! At this rate, he's dead!"_

 _He glanced down at his watch, noticing the little time they had left, and even then? Enma was pinned down, arms tied against his sides and his opponents? They were readying their final attack. Skull looked around again, seeing neither Ausiliatrice nor Chrome coming to Enma's aid._

 _"He's all alone! They're going to kill him!" Skull yelled out, finding his own legs carrying himself forward. Skull glanced down at his watch once again, recalling a memory, something that the man that gave them the watches had told him. Wasting no time, he yelled into his watch,_

 _"Present, please!"_

 _And without even recognizing that his body was changing,_

 _He threw himself in front of Enma, blocking him from the Varia's attack._

 _Chrome blinked, her illusionary world disappearing around her and Squalo as she noticed a bright light. She paled, seeing their attack aimed right at Enma, realizing that she was too far away to help him._

 _"Enma!" She yelled out, running to him anyways, despite her watch beeping loudly, signaling the end of the battle just as the attack hit a figure, jumping in front of the redhead just before it hit Enma. At first, Chrome become more worried, thinking that it was Ausiliatrice who had taken the blow for Enma. But soon, she looked to the side, realizing that Ausiliatrice and Xanxus had ended their fight as well, and were looking with curious expressions at the person that now lay twitching on the ground (possibly dead?)._

 _"Is he…" Chrome said, putting a hand over her mouth as she neared, relieved that Enma was fine, but now concerned about the stranger, unmoving on the ground._

 _"He's alive," Ausiliatrice answered, jumping down from the unfinished building and walking to Chrome's side._

 _"The hell?!" Squalo said, observing the body as well, "No fucking way! You pieces of shit used your rings, didn't you?"_

 _"Of course," Belphegor tutted, inspecting his ring, "We went with your plan, after all. Should have annihilated him."_

 _"No one could have survived that," Leviathan concluded, and yet? The body suddenly jumped up, as if just to spite the man. Strangely, as he rose, his body shrunk, revealing the Arcobaleno Skull, albeit worn for wear, but alive and complaining loudly._

 _"That fucking hurt!" He screamed out, falling back to roll on the ground, shouting out more complaints._

 _"Cloud flames," Ausiliatrice murmured, ignoring the childish yells of the Arcobaleno, "Because of his flames, he could absorb the attacks easily. But this also means –_

 _"The Arcobalenos can enter the fights," Xanxus finished, radiating ferocity as he came up behind them._

 _"How interesting," Ausiliatrice tutted, her abyssal eyes strangely stormy, deep in thought. Xanxus turned, shooting at the presence that suddenly appeared, hidden behind the little remains of the construction site._

 _"Hohoho! Play nice now!" A man chided in a childish voice as he dodged, revealing himself. Xanxus scowled, clearly offended, but managed to quell himself with a glance towards Ausiliatrice._

 _"Tsunomichi, was it?" the dark-skinned woman addressed, reviewing him careful, recalling Dino's description of the man that gave them the watches._

 _"Ohoho! Someone is smarty-warty!" The man cooed, causing a spark of annoyance in Ausiliatrice, her own hand itching to raise her gun. Tsunomichi, however, seemed to feign ignorance at this, and continued;_

 _"I see that the Arcobaleno Skull had discovered his present from Checker Face! During the battle times, the present allows all the Arcobaleno to remove their curse for a period of time! Three minutes to be exact, so be careful!"_

 _"He's right!" Skull exclaimed, looking at his watch, "The bottom number changed to two minutes and seven seconds!"_

 _"All the Arcobaleno…" Ausiliatrice muttered, her eyes looking to the side. Chrome frowned, noticing this, and stepped forward with a hesitant arm reaching, but was distracted as Adel ran into the scene, going straight for Enma and embracing him warmly, only distancing herself in order to mother him, making sure he was fine._

 _"Hey," Xanxus addressed Ausiliatrice, who looked back at him with narrowed eyes, "I'm not fucking done with our fight yet."_

 _"You think I'm satisfied?" she shot back, clicking her tongue, "Ten minutes isn't enough time for us to go all out."_

 _"Obviously," he retorted, lifting his gun, but was surprised, as she stepped forward, pushing it down and grabbing his wrist in one movement. He pulled it away, but still kept his pace beside her, giving her a questioning look._

 _"We're both fucking pissed, right?" She addressed, "So let's get a fucking drink. I need alcohol."_

 _And Xanxus clicked his tongue, but followed her none the less._

 _"Fine."_

 _Squalo rolled his eyes, and called for the Varia to regroup and retreat. Chrome, who had been distracted by Adel and Enma (and Skull, who had naturally offended Adel and was knocked to the side when he attempted to place his head between her breasts), looked up, surprised to see Ausiliatrice and Xanxus walking off together. Chrome considered going after her tutor, but after noticing the aura both Ausiliatrice and the boss of the Varia were putting off, she decided against it, knowing that the older woman needed time to cool down._

 _"I…" Chrome looked back, blushing lightly when she realized that Adel was addressing her._

 _"I want to thank you, both of you," Adel expressed, her eyes going to Ausiliatrice's retreating figure, "for fighting with Enma. For helping him despite… Thank you."_

 _"So Reborn decided to help us!" Skull said triumphantly, running back to the group (but wisely keeping his distance from Adel)._

 _"Oh, no," Chrome said, putting her arms up, "You don't need to thank us, really. And as for that… well, Ausiliatrice, she um, kind of went against her father's wishes–"_

 _"Reborn has a daughter?!"_

 _"And I'm sure," Chrome continued, brushing over that, "that she wouldn't take your thanks… Really, she just sensed the Varia and came, so it was coincidence that you were here….?" She finished rather lamely and blushing deeply._

 _"Well," Enma said, scratching the back of his head and cheeks twinged lightly as well, "Still, I'm glad you were here. I don't think I could have held out as long without you."_

 _"Thank you," Adel said solemnly, "for taking care of Enma. Please, express this to Ausiliatrice as well. In the future battles, the Shimon will be sure to return this favor if the opportunity comes."_

 _"Does that mean that the rest of the Shimon is fighting for Skull?" Chrome asked, surprised._

 _"Hell yeah!" Skull yelled out, sticking his tongue and pulling the skin under his eye down, "So tell Reborn to watch out! Team Skull is going to kick ass now!_ "

* * *

"... and that's really all that happened with us," Chrome concluded.

"So Enma's not alone anymore? That's good," Tsunayoshi said with a relieved smile.

"The information about our _present_ will definitely come in handy," Reborn said, hand on his chin before letting it fall, nodding to Chrome, "Thank you, Chrome. And as for everyone else? Dino," he addressed his oldest student, eyes glinting again, "Care to tell us what happened with Hibari?"

"Do I really have to?" The man sighed, propping his head on his arms, "It's actually a little embarrassing…"

* * *

 _"Out of all the times to disappear," Dino tutted as he regained his composure, complaining lightly despite standing confidently, retrieving his whip from under his jacket as the watch counted down, "She picks now, huh?"_

 _"I suppose you'll do to sharpen my fangs," Hibari Kyoya hummed, looking over Dino with slight interest._

 _Despite Dino's slight hesitation (nervousness) to fight someone trained by Ausiliatrice, the don felt confident in this upcoming battle, or at least confident in his ability to hold his own._

 _"For Ausil's sake," Dino teased, "I'll try to go easy on you."_

 _"Don't pity me," Hibari snarled, causing Dino to laugh._

 _"You really are her student!"_

 _And yet, Dino's confidence did not take into account the single fact that none of his men were around at the time. Then again, Dino never took this into account did he?_

 _Hibari Kyoya was already going into this battle disappointed, due to the fact that his original prey (and ultimate objective) had evaded him. And witnessing this new, possibly interesting opponent fall flat on his face due to tripping over his own whip? Disappointed did not even begin to cover what Hibari Kyoya felt._

 _(Anger? Rage? Perhaps more accurate words)_

 _But he was surprised, when a horse burst in a flurry of sky flames from Dino's hand the moment Hibari decided to end this and go for his watch. It was almost sad that the horse proved to be more a adversary than the owner._

 _"Scuderia?!" Dino exclaimed, surprised that the animal emerged on his own. The horse snorted, and seemed to roll its eye, motioning to its back with its head. Understanding instantly, Dino scrambled up, barely dodging Hibari's attacks as he struggled to mount the house. As soon as his owner was secure, Scuderia reared upwards and shot forward, taking Dino through the hallway with Hibari in hot pursuit._

 _"Slow down, slow down!" Dino called, gripping Scuderia's mane and turning his head, seeing if Hibari was following. The horse snorted, and Dino was almost sure it rolled its eyes again. Dino nearly squeaked, jerking his body as the steed took a sharp turn and burst through door, leading them outside._

 _"I'm pretty sure you weren't this stubborn in the future, Scuderia!" Dino yelled out, making a distressed noise as the horse rose again, dumping Dino off of him. Scuderia snorted, and looked back to Dino, clearly judging. "What?" Dino challenged, holding his arms up in question. Scuderia merely snorted in response._

 _"Dino?! Is that you?"_

 _Both owner and horse turned their heads, seeing Yamamoto, Gokudera, and Ryohei approach._

 _"Have you seen the Tenth?" Gokudera immediately asked upon approaching Dino._

 _"No, not yet," he answered immediately, "But listen, right now I'm getting chased by–"_

 _"What's this?" Hibari tutted, stepping out of the school, "More prey for me to bite to death?"_

 _"So you did betray the tenth after all?!" Gokudera accused, noticing his watch and scowling._

 _"Betray?" Hibari retorted, lifting his chin, "You can't betray something you were never a part of. I joined Team Fon for one reason one reason only," He said, eyes glinting as he reviewed them,_

 _"Because your team is full of people I want to bite to death."_

* * *

".. And then he destroyed my watch! Everyone supported me, but I still lost!" Ryohei relented, slamming his fists against the table. Chrome leaned over, giving him a reassuring pat on the back, and a small, shy smile. Yamamoto sent a sympathetic smile as well before continuing.

"But from there, I basically used Kojirou to help us escape, and stop Hibari from chasing us," Yamamoto finished, rather smugly, "So, Ryohei aside, we managed to get away with our watches in one piece, but while we looking for Tsuna, the time ran out."

"The Bronco was useless! When we ran into him, he was running away!" Gokudera snapped, sparking Dino to apologize profusely.

"Sorry, Sorry! I told you, I was off my game! And I didn't want to hurt Ausil's student," Dino lamely excused himself.

"Bullshit!"

"Wait, where is Ausiliatrice anyways?" Tsunayoshi perked up, looking to Chrome again, "You said she was, mad right, and then went off on her own?"

"With Xanxus," Chrome corrected him gently. A moment, and then reactions (strong reactions) from the boys. Dino and Reborn seemed to be the most reserved with this, with Dino simply frowning, and Reborn mirroring this with an echo of confusion.

"Why the hell would she go off with him?" Gokudera snapped, nearly scandalized.

"They're friends right?" Ryohei spoke up, "I thought I saw them together at the Inheritance Ceremony?"

"Like together, together?" Yamamoto asked, confused.

"Not like that," Chrome corrected quickly, and then blushed deeply when all eyes were once again on her, "I mean," She quickly back tracked, "I don't know for sure, it's Ausiliatrice's life and choice, and she doesn't… I just saw them walk off together. That's all," she concluded, her face red. She quickly folded her hands, looking into her lap right after ending.

"If that's all there is to discuss," Reborn voice cut through the awkward atmosphere, "then you're all dismissed. Be ready for tomorrow's battle. And Dino?" The hitman said, fixing his eyes on his former student,

"I need to talk to you."

* * *

"Is… Is this about Ausil?" Dino asked, looking over to Reborn as they made they're way back to the hotel.

"What do you think about her and Xanxus?" Reborn asked bluntly, "Does that intimidate you?"

Dino was silent for a while, before speaking.

"Shouldn't you be the one concerned?" Dino asked instead, "I mean, isn't that how fathers are supposed to react to something like this? At least somewhat worried?"

Reborn's eyes barely narrowed, knowing that Dino was referring to something specifically. And for the world's greatest hitman, it didn't take him long to figure it out.

"He was the one. The who burned her face in the future."

Dino blinked, stopping in his tracts to look over at Reborn.

"You didn't know? She didn't tell you?" Dino's inquiry, however, only caused Reborn's scowl to deepen. He reached up, tugging his fedora down in order to shadow his features. Leon shifted on it, clearly uncomfortable.

"No. She didn't tell me," he said simply. Dino looked at his tutor, eyebrows drawn, confused at his sudden anger at this situation, both Reborn's and his own. He turned his head, and his leg twitched as if to step forward and move on and away from this. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do that.

"So, you're mad now?" He asked his tutor, confronting him, "You're going to act angry and offended by this _now_?"

Reborn found himself surprised by his student's tamed outburst, but only expressed this by barely looking up.

"You've grown bold Dino," Reborn said simply, and that was all it took for Dino's own words to dawn on him. Suddenly, Dino found himself flustered, and felt as if he had overstepped a boundary. And then, following that feeling, he felt _fear_ , realizing just _who_ he was talking to.

"I- I mean, Reborn I'm- " Dino stuttered out, before simply falling flat and silent, watching as Reborn jumped from the wall he had been walking on, heading the opposite way of before.

"About time you grew a backbone," Reborn remarked, titling his hat down once again, leaving a long, tall shadow as he walked into the sunset.

(Always, always, with the sunsets)

* * *

"These battles are suspicious, right?" she said, eyes on her drink as she stirred it. Xanxus scoffed, taking his recently refilled drink and bringing it to his lips before answering.

"Fucking course they are," he shot back, "You didn't have to get me drunk to talk about it though."

"There's no point in getting you drunk," she said, "when you're already drunk 90% of the time." He chuckled, a low gruff sound before he allowed it to fade into the walls of the small, private booth they had asked for.

"That why you had us take the watches off?" He asked, gesturing with his head to the closed door.

"You can never be too careful. But you already know that," Ausiliatrice said before immediately moving on to the meat of the subject, "The Cervello. How did you come into contact with them for the ring battles."

He took his time recalling, red eyes reflected, ambered in the pools of his glass.

"They… just kind of showed up."

"And you weren't suspicious of that?" She asked, raising as eyebrow, voice harsh.

"Fuck off!" He spar immediately, "It's not exactly like I was…" he scowled, and took another swig before continuing, "The fuck is your point?"

"There's an order to it," Ausiliatrice started slowly, allowing him time to calm before she poke again, "Have you noticed? The Vongola Rings, the Mare Rings, and now the Pacifiers? The Cervello were involved with both the Vongola Ring Conflict, and the battle in the future, when the Mare Rings showed up."

"You think they're connected to the Tri-ni-set," Xanxus stated, seeing her point, "And this Checker Face?"

"A possible ring leader. Even now, he's partly in the shadows, with that bastard Tsunomichi speaking for him most the time," she said, recalling how they had only heard Checker Face's voice when he was reviewing the day's battle (and with Mukuro's team in the lead. Ausiliatrice suspected it had to do with that young illusionist he took under his wing, and the addiction of Verde's genius. Truly, they were a major threat in these battles).

"Why," Xanxus asked, as carefully as he could get (but there was an edge, roughness, as always when he spoke), "are you telling me this?"

"I'm afraid," Ausiliatrice admitted, truthful and without shame, "Each time the Cervello appeared, each time the Tri-ni-set is involved…. It's a way of choosing. The Vongola Conflict, them giving Byakuran the rings, the entire Tri-ni-set rejecting his control…"

She thought back to her conversation with Aria, to the woman herself, both her happiness and her sadness, and her strange (blasphemous, to Ausiliatrice) acceptance of her fate.

"How do you think the Arcobaleno are picked?" she asked Xanxus, thinking of her father, thinking of her mother, thinking of existence, her life (a strange hope, that if he weren't an Arcobaleno, if he wasn't cursed, then maybe, maybe).

Xanxus was silent, thinking.

"I may be assuming," Ausiliatrice admitted, gripping her glass tightly, enough for cracks to splinter its sides, "but I don't…. I know the life of an Arcobaleno, and the life of those connected to them. And I don't want to see that happen to anyone else. Not in front of my own eyes."

(her father's eyes)

(She had Aria to thank for this revelation. Perhaps, she should visit Uni sometime)

* * *

 _"We need fucking proof," Xanxus told her, "We need something solid."_

 _"Like I don't know that," she found herself snapping back. She sighed, and put down her drink, deciding she had enough for one night. A breath, and she spoke again, "It's a theory. But I have it being tested. At least, one part of it."_

 _"And?" he asked, taking his drink back after she filled it for him._

 _"As for the Cervello," Ausiliatrice said, "I have someone looking into it."_

* * *

"Look for the Cervello, she said," Shamal grumbled, holding his jacket out as his mosquitoes retreated back into it, "You're good at stalking women after all, she said," he further mocked, rolling his eyes as he walked past multiple bodies, their mouths foaming and blood trickling from their eyes and noses, "Do me this one favor, she said," he finished, nudging one of the bodies and then stopping, finding the man's wallet and taking wads of cash from it.

"What I do for women," Shamal sighed dramatically before walking from the alley way, having finished his small interrogation.

He recalled his younger years of being a hitman, and was almost disappointed in himself, seeing that it took a couple of hours to find who he was looking for. But considering his age, and the fact that he found them at all, Shamal was fairly pleased with himself.

"A lady such as yourself," He said, sliding into the booth across from a hooded figure, "shouldn't be in such a filthy place like, this, don't you think?"

"… Trident Shamal," a raspy voice called out, "Why can't I move."

"If you know my name," the doctor said, holding his finger out for a mosquito to land on, "then you already know the answer. Usually, I'm not the type to use such methods on women, but there's a far more beautiful and dangerous woman that gave me a job, and she will possibly maimed if I disappoint her. Well, if she's anything like her mother," he added quietly.

"Anyways, I'm here to ask you about your boss. Janus? Ring a bell?" Cold, raspy laughter leaked from under figures hood.

"Former boss," the figure said, "If you're curious, you can take away this hood and see why."

Shamal blinked, unimpressed, before sighing leaning back comfortably.

"You Cervello have a flair for the dramatics, huh?" He said, acting bored, "Let me guess? Bad lip job? Nose job? I heard you guys go far for aesthetic."

"I didn't exactly pass Janus's test for beauty," the figure scoffed, "And let's just say that the surgeries they had us go through didn't _work_ for me. I wasn't with the Cervello for long. Didn't fit in."

Shamal huffed, and then leaned forward easily pulling the fabric away, revealing awfully marred and thick, uneven skin, mostly orange in color, but patchy, almost calicoed. Their hair was patchy and almost entirely gone, string like strings of pink clinging to their scalp, their eyes almost covered by swelled mounds of flesh, and mouth torn and never mended. Their throat, obviously tampered with, and Shamal recalled how all the Cervello had sounded the same as well.

"I'm a doctor, honey," he assured her with a charming smile, "I've seen worse."

They scoffed at this, the noise further mauled by their damaged vocal cords.

"After I _reacted_ to the _surgeries_ ," they said these words as if mocking them, "I was thrown away. Useless. And I doubt I'll be useful to you."

"Oh, but, according to my sources," Shamal said, reaching into his pocket and waving a mall notebook lazily in the air before opening it, taking his time looking at his notes, "you were with them… let's see, around the start of the ring battles? Vongola Ring battles to be specific, but then again, what other ring battles are there, right? According to my sources that is, which of course, were incredibly _hard_ to find," he said with a chuckle. He snapped the notebook closed, and looked back to the figure.

"But thanks to this timeline…. Well, and the fact that all the other current Cervello have conveniently disappeared, you're my only option. And I have a hunch that you'll give me something useful. So, let's just make this easier for both of us, and you can just sing with that pretty voice of yours, okay?"

The figure was silent in return. Shamal sighed in response, and clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment as he returned the notebook to his pocket, retrieving a small red capsule from it instead.

"I hate to do this, truly…. But then again, you're not that pretty, are you?"

* * *

"I thought you would be here."

Tsunayoshi nearly shrieked, whipping around to see Ausiliatrice sitting at Yamamoto's kitchen table, illuminated by the dim light of the open fridge behind Tsunayoshi.

"Ausiliatrice!" Tsunayoshi squeaked out, hand clutching his chest. He relaxed, and bent over. Ausiliatrice allowed him to catch his breath, an amused glint in her eye. She spoke again once he was sitting at the table, after he had taken a few sips of the milk he had ventured down to get in the first place.

"You…." Tsunayoshi struggled, calmer but still slightly startled and confused, "So, you just broke into Yamamoto's house?"

"Dino told me that you lost to your dad. I thought you might want to talk about it."

He grew somber suddenly at this statement. He was reserved and drew in on himself. She waited, patiently, until he grew courage, finding the words and forcing them from his mouth (hesitant, but she waited, she waited).

"I… I don't want to fight my dad… Well, I do," Tsunayoshi admitted, then grew more confused, "But I don't? I mean, he's family, right? But he's awful! And he's lazy, and he left me and Mom for so long, and then just comes back and acts like everything is normal, and he lies, he's lied for years! And I know Mom is sad, but he willfully ignores it, so I hate him, but I don't? Because he's family, but – but he's strong! And he beat me today and he's strong, apparently? And even if I do fight him, can I even win? But I don't want to fight him?!" Tsunayoshi finished, clutching his head before looking up at her.

"I mean…" he said, quieter, grabbing his milk again and lifting it, inspecting it nervously "What do I do?"

She blinked, nodded, and took a drink of the water she got for herself.

"Just kick his ass," she said simply, the with a shrug, added, "Fuck, I know I want to kick Reborn's ass."

Immediately, Tsunayoshi spit his drink out, spewing it across the table.

"What?!" She blinked, having leaned slightly to the side due to his small outburst, and titled her head.

"Fight your old man. Go all out. He fucking deserves it, and as annoying as it is, he can take it," she said with another shrug, "Sometimes you just have to fucking knock some sense into men. And with Iemitsu? Well, I actually don't know if he has any sense to begin with, so it wouldn't hurt. Much."

"You want to fight Reborn?" Tsunayoshi clarified. Ausiliatrice gave a blank, almost disappointed look.

"Of course. He's the strongest hitman in the world, cursed body or not. And you know, that will help work out some of our _issues_ , I guess," she tacked on rather callously.

Tsunayoshi blinked, and scrutinized Ausiliatrice, suspicious that she was acting so callous and open about this subject. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, inspecting Ausiliatrice's features closely, and seeing slightly more color in her cheeks than usual.

"Are… Ausiliatrice are you drunk?"

"… a little."

(but Xanxus was far more drunk, which was the important thing)

* * *

In the morning, Tsunayoshi was just glad that Yamamoto Tsuyoshi was so happy to have a teacher of his son's come in so early for breakfast (easily believing her when she said that his son was the one to convince her to come, and due to her busy schedule, this was the best time for her to stop by), and that Yamamoto was so good at adding to the lie and fully convincing his father.

But Tsunayoshi still felt guilty for not telling him that Ausiliatrice spent the night as well.

(And so the second day of the Representative battles begins)

* * *

 _"I was meant to a warrior, fight something amongst me, leave here victorious."_

 ** _-Macklemore (Make the Money)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So, shorter chapter? Sorry, Design and Clay have been taking up a lot of my time (but I've been having fun, so that's chill). I feel like not much happened? A lot of the action happens on the second day and after, just due to the time limit, because Fuck man, ten minute is barely enough time to do anything._

 _I decided I'm going to do the AUs as their own chapter thing? So here's a list of the ones I have so far, and feel free to Message or Review if you want to see more, or if you have any specific ideas for any of these:_

 _Harry Potter_

 _Naruto_

 _RWBY_

 _Avatar_

 _One Piece_

 _School (like Mafia school with Xanxus and Squalo, whoo because someone mentioned it once)_

 _College_

 _Marvel (Black Panther)_

 _Disney Princess (but plot twist, the princess is Dino lmao)_

 _So let me know if you guys have any other ideas or AUs (and it doesn't have to be other "worlds/stories" it can be plain ole AUs too~_

 _-Evenly_


	38. Lesson 38: To Sacrifice

**Lesson 38:** To Sacrifice

* * *

 _"I just don't believe violence is ever the answer. It is a question. The real answer is far more terrifying."_

 ** _-Joseph Fink & Jeremy Cranor (Cecil; Welcome to Night Vale: The Sandstorm)_**

* * *

"Hey, Ausil… are you hungover?" Dino asked, slowing as he walked into the classroom. Ausiliatrice's eyes went to his, nearly glaring, but with a tired, slightly annoyed tint.

"Ausiliatrice," she corrected instead, propping her head on her hand and almost slumping forward onto the desk.

"I guess this will help then," Dino said with only slight hesitation, not knowing whether to be amused with the situation or not. He placed a mug of coffee on the desk in front of her, before pulling a chair up to the desk for himself, casually plopping down into it.

"I didn't know Shamal was in," he said with the same amount of casualness, to which Ausiliatrice responded (almost, one could phrase, without thinking).

"I was with Xanxus, not Shamal."

And Dino nearly choked, having taken a sip of his own coffee right as she spoke.

"Xanxus?! Why – Why were you with him?" He asked, far more concerned than angry. He backtracked quickly, however, when her eyes snapped to him. "Not that it's my business, I mean, you do what you want – just," and he said this as a sigh, slumping forward, "I just… I'm not sure you know, about… I trust you and if you trust him, I guess…" and he trailed off again, looking to the side as he ran a hand through his hair, expression unsure and uncomfortable. Another breath, and then he asked:

"What were you talking about? Why were you with him? Because ...you had a reason, right?"

(he hoped)

Ausiliatrice watched this transpire carefully, his reaction. And instead of a spurt of anger, like she assumed she would have, she felt something else instead. Curiosity? Perhaps. But then,

 _Guilt_.

Her eyes flickered to his watch, then hers, before a scowl barely graced her features.

"….I'll explain later."

And he frowned – no, it was a wince, submissive and edging on hurt. And he turned away from her.

(It's not that she wanted to keep things from him, but wasn't she always doomed to circumstance?)

"I guess you're not coming with us to meet with Team Uni then?" He asked quietly, far more reserved (cold) than he was in the beginning of this exchange.

"I'm staying with Kyoya tonight," she answered simply. And he nodded and began to push himself up,

Before pausing, his mouth barely opened, as if wanting to say something – but that only lasted a moment, it was only a pause before he spoke again, clearly not saying what he wanted to,

"I should get back to work."

And he walked away from her, out of the room,

And she let him go.

(star crossed lovers indeed)

* * *

"But…" Uni said, smiling brightly once more after giving the group a daunting premonition about the next battle (two Arcobaleno losing, but who, but who?), "Let's not focus on that for now, okay? I've been meaning to ask," she said, her eyes shining, aura and attitude bright as she looked around at the group, "Where's Miss Ausiliatrice? She is fighting for you, right Uncle?" Uni asked, turning to Reborn in question.

The hitman hesitated before opening his mouth to answer, but nearly winced when Dino spoke before him.

"She stayed behind," he said, frowning only slightly before giving Uni a charming, albeit crooked grin, "so she isn't with us tonight."

"I think she chose to stay with Hibari," Chrome answered from her seat, placing her tea cup down gently as she nodded in confirmation, "She decided to spend this battle with him."

"You're her student as well, right, Chrome?" Uni asked, smiling softly over at the girl. Chrome barely blushed and nodded once more, far more determined and confident than the first.

"What's it like, being with her? I've wondered, since I met her… well, since my future self met her, I should say," Uni corrected herself, sending a twinge of sadness through the room.

"You seemed fond of her, then," Dino said, with a smile, hinting at sadness, confusion. Uni hummed in agreement, and looked to the window of the room, light filtering through the curtain daintily.

"It's because…" the Sky Arcobaleno (so young to carry such a heavy title, but she knew this already, she knew this well), "in a way, she reminds of my mother. Don't you see it, Uncle Reborn?" Uni asked, turning to him suddenly.

"Yeah," the hitman said, lifting his hand to tilt his fedora down, hiding his face efficiently, "I can see it."

(Ah, but hindsight is always a hindrance)

* * *

"Where's the other one?"

"If you're referring to Chrome," Ausiliatrice said evenly, placing the gun (freshly loaded, all her weapons checked), in the holster on her back before her hands went to gently rest on the weapons at her hips, "She decided to fight with her boss tonight, along with Dino, in case you were referring to him. I know you're _eager_ to fight him again."

Hibari Kyoya's look soured at this, snapping irritably at his uncle, who covered his mouth with his sleeve in order to hide his laughter. Fon coughed, and pointedly looked away as they entered the elevator.

Kyoya had made true to his promise for today, and had effectively followed Ausiliatrice the entire day. From the school to the hotel, he even patiently waited with his back turned in the hotel room while she changed and geared up for the night. Of course, this victory was ruined by the fact that the woman was clearly letting him follow her, a fact that the Storm Arcobaleno found amusing.

"Don't be such a brat, Kyoya," she tutted, causing his irritation to further spike, "I have to split my time between the two of you evenly after all."

"I'm _not_ ," he snapped, glaring, "one of your students." She merely hummed at this, sharing an amused look with Fon. Just then, both their watches beeped loudly, announcing the one minute remaining before the battle began. Kyoya nearly purred at this, gripping his tonfas, already shifting into more of a fighting stance. Ausiliatrice smirked easily, maintaining her casual posture.

"With that said," she continued their conversation, as if the battle was not about to start, "I've gotten the feeling that you've come to resent me, with the little attention I've given you. So tonight, I'll treat you."

Kyoya raised an eyebrow at this, immediately suspicious. Even Fon spared a curious glace with glinting eyes. Kyoya hesitated, scowled, and opened with mouth to question her, but closed it as the door of the elevator opened,

Revealing the Varia, finishing their own prep for the battle. Xanxus, who stood at the helm of the group along with his second, grew excited and practically feral upon seeing Ausiliatrice, and Kyoya seemed to reflect this mood as well; but there was conflict within this, the prefect's eyes flickering back and forth from the Varia to Ausiliatrice as if determining which prey he would pursue.

"To lead us straight to the lair of beasts…. How sly of you, Ausiliatrice," Fon mused, his sleeve covering the bottom half of his face, despite his own excitement shimmering in his eyes. Their watches were now multiplied, the noise of the countdown much louder and daunting. But ah, excitement and bloodlust filled the air between them.

"You say that as if we're," she said, her eyes glinting as well, "not beasts as well."

(Takes one to know one)

And the battle began.

* * *

"What the- Chrome?!" Ken stared down at his shattered watch in shock, and moments later, was thrown into Chikusa, hindering him as well.

"Sorry, Ken, Chikusa!" Chrome called out to them, barely blushing and spinning her trident once more before turning to meet an identical weapon.

"Looks like you've flourished," Mukuro complimented, staring down at her as they braced against each other, "under her tutelage."

Chrome barely frowned, pushing back, before her eye flicked to the side, widening slightly. Surprising him, she went back suddenly, causing him to fall forward, catching himself just in time to dodge a swing from Yamamoto Takeshi, only to deal with dynamite from Gokudera Hayato seconds later.

"Did we get him?" Yamamoto asked, sword still ready as he stood beside Chrome, peering into the smoke.

"Probably not, knowing that guy," Gokudera spat, and scowled further, seeing that Mukuro stood unharmed and smirking. Now separated, they prepared to collide again, but paused, seeing a strange and blue beam arcing towards them. Acting fast, Chrome pulled both Yamamoto and Gokudera back, swinging them to where their backs where against a nearby tree, the beam hitting and nearly making a blast with its strength.

The boys blinked, and looked to Chrome, who was still holding them to her. With a deep blush, she quickly released them, muttering soft apologies. Carefully, they looked back to where Mukuro once stood, but were shocked to see –

"An illusion?" Chrome muttered, seeing a destroyed decoy, mist pilfering off of the corpse of it, "Made with the gloves?"

"That bastard!" Gokudera snapped, going to kick the remainder of the form, "If he's not here then where the hell did he go?"

* * *

"Fodder," Hibari Kyoya declared, easily smashing Lussuria's watch, and throwing him to the side, just as he did with Levi, "should stay out of this. Stop," he hissed, turning glinting eyes to Squalo and Bel, flicking his eyes behind them, where Ausiliatrice and Xanxus were battling it out, "getting in the way of my prey."

"Fat fucking chance, brat!" Squalo sneered, raising his sword as Belphegor brandished his knives.

"We've got orders," Belphegor chimed, smile nearly glinting as much as his knives, "to make sure no one interrupts the boss."

"I'm in these battles to fight that woman," Kyoya sneered, raising his tonfas as well, "and if I have to bite you two animals to death to get to her, then so be it."

"Oh, but Kyoya…" a voice rang out, causing even Ausiliatrice and Xanxus to pause momentarily, "you'll be much too preoccupied to get to dear Ausiliatrice."

Ausiliatrice barely smirked, and stepped back in a timely matter; lotuses bursts from the floor, exactly in the center of the room (the center of attention, Ausiliatrice thought, as he liked to be), framed by light coils of mist. The vines and flowers furled and then broke apart to petals, revealing Mukuro Rokudo in a flamboyant fashion (standing between Xanxus and Ausiliatrice, much to Xanxus's chagrin).

"You're late," Ausiliatrice called out to him, to which he smirked and smoothly replied:

"Fashionably so," he tutted, and then immediate leaned back, barely avoiding the shot from Xanxus.

"You're in my way, trash," the boss of the Varia seethed, scars threatening to show. Mukuro's amused expression remained, and lowly (mockingly) he bowed.

"My apologies," Mukuro cooed, shifting his eyes from Xanxus to the others, landing on a seething Kyoya, "I'll get out of your way then. After all," and in another flourish of mist, he was in front of Kyoya, who met Mukuro's trident easily with his tonfa,

"I'm not here to play with you Varia. But I suppose" he said, narrowing his eyes and separating just as Belphegor's knives pierced the floor where they had been standing, "the more the merrier."

And the battle began again.

* * *

Iemitsu was surprised, happy even, with the amount of ferocity Tsunayoshi was displaying in their small squabble. And he made a point to express this, vocally:

"Wow! Tsuna, you've changed since last time, huh? What's new with you! You can always tell your old man!" he said, grinning widely, catching Tsunayoshi's fist and promptly sending his son flying into the face of a cliff. Iemitsu laughed heartily, leaning down and easily picking up a large chunk of ground, nearing Tsunayoshi.

The boy pushing himself up, face contorting to a scowl.

"I've…" Tsunayoshi started, fists clenched, and eyes unclear in that moment before thinking back,

( _"Just kick his ass"_ )

"I've…" Tsunayoshi said again, head down cast as Iemitsu neared. But suddenly, he looked up, eyes blazing orange, brightly (brilliantly), and in that moment, Iemitsu was stunned by the ferocity, by the beauty of this (and in that moment, he thought of Primo, and his son's uncanny resemblance to their ancestor), but in the next moment, was stunned by his son's next words:

"I've decided to kick your ass!"

(and Reborn titled his fedora down, and lowered his wrist where he had been ready to speak into it. Looks like he didn't need to step in like he thought, and somehow?)

(he knew he had his daughter to thank for this)

* * *

It was seeing her like this, that reaffirmed Xanxus's original attraction Ausiliatrice. She was brutal with every action, eyes glimmering, glinting, the reflections of the sparks jutting from their weapons meeting being absorbed instantly by the inky blackness of her eyes;

 _This_ is what he wanted from her. Ferocity, passion, unhindered, not distracted, her attention entirely on him, her,

completely _his_.

But the moment she was within his reach? She was defiant, always. Going through extremes in order to float freely, unhindered, unbound (a cloud, a cloud, but she shone, she _burned_ goddammit). The moment he grabbed both her wrists, ceasing her movements entirely,

she thrust her head forward, dislodging her shoulders in the process. And as he stumbled back, he wiped blood from his nose with a feral grin, watching as she easily popped her joints back into place, raising her guns just as he did,

And throwing themselves back into battle, violent, and ferocious, and _beautiful_. Truly (truly, truly) she was a monster, a beast, a predator. It was seeing her like this, that made Xanxus crave her even more (but she had refused him once hadn't he? But ah, that was a different Xanxus, and a different Ausiliatrice, and wasn't he making a point to show her his calm, to show her his strength, to show her, to _prove_ to her?).

Xanxus, however, was quite disgruntled when their match was interrupted.

"Sorry to cut in," a placid voice stated, even causing Squalo, Hibari, and Mukuro to look over from their fight (Belphegor having been eliminated quickly after the illusionist arrived), turning to look at the figure who dared to stand between Ausiliatrice and Xanxus.

"But I'm afraid I couldn't help but get involved," Fon said with a calm smile, now uncursed, tall and lean, taut with potential danger, making the other's blood boil in anticipation. Hibari however, scowled at his uncle, furious that another opponent (another obstacle) stood in the way of him and his target.

"By all means," Ausiliatrice purred, grinning fully, "join the fun, _Arcobaleno_."

(And Xanxus glowered, and Mammon scoffed from their position on the sideline, attention turning curiously to the watch on their own wrist)

"It's refreshing, really," Fon commented easily, in the midst of the fight, fluidly dodging both Ausiliatrice's and Xanxus's attacks, and only suffering small scratches as consequence. His eyes barely narrowed however, upon noticing Ausiliatrice shoot to both sides, and immediately he reacted, lifting his hands to catch her bullets, skidding back as he stopped.

"It's like fighting a young Reborn," Fon told her, allowing the bullets (mere mushed metal) to fall from his hands, the indents and marks, evidence of Ausiliatrice's attacks, nearly smoking, "he left the same bruises as well, you know?"

There was bare setback in Ausiliatrice's eyes, hesitation in how to react to this. But before she could consider taking up anger, another took this mantle in her stead.

"Always harping on the past, preaching about it," a voice called, and the shadows of the room seemed to wither then stretch, writhing, "As if you're detached from it! It makes me sick!"

They turned their attention to a cloaked figure, just as a pacifier fell from their chest.

"I'm sick of it!" the Arcobaleno Viper yelled out, seething, "I'm sick of your preachings, saying that your martial arts is better, I'm tired of how you look down on me, on everyone! But now, I'm stepping in," they glowered, then turning to Mukuro, addressed, "and I might as well get back at you while I'm at it. This," they said, raising their hands, "will be different that the ring battles, Mukuro Rokudo."

Ausiliatrice's eyes immediately went back to Fon, noticing the slight shift in his demeanor.

"Getting serious, huh," she tutted, sheaving her guns and switching weapons,

bringing up a pair of axes just in time to meet Squalo's sword. Despite Xanxus's harsh (furious) look at his second command, the battle was fractured from the Mist Arcobalenos entrance. And yet? Hibari Kyoya had yet to cross weapons with Ausiliatrice, a fact that angered him to no end. However, the fact that angered him further? She was _blatantly_ avoiding him (however, he channeled this irritation, this will into his flames).

(just as she taught him)

Ausiliatrice however, kept note of the Arcobalenos, and her eyes widened immediately, letting out a quick swear seeing Fon fall into a stance she had seen only once before.

"Mukuro!" she called across the room, ducking under Squalo's swing and stepping back, "Get back!" The illusionist met eyes with her, before turning his attention to Fon, understanding and retreating as well.

Meilin spoke of her father's attacks before. Whether this piece of information was from Ausiliatrice's future memories or a recent conversation, Ausiliatrice did not know or care. But what she did know? Fon was running out of time, and aimed to use this as a finishing move. And from what Meilin had told her, there was no doubt it would be.

(but there _was_ doubt, wasn't there?)

Ausiliatrice's eyebrows knit together, watching Fon's body blossom with blood and cuts, his attack only half completely (having only destroyed Squalo's watch in the process, a fact that the swordsman was now loudly complaining about). The martial artist's body fell to the ground, and immediately, Ausiliatrice turned accusing eyes to the other Arcobaleno, knowing this to be tainted in an illusionist's touch.

She held out a hand out daintily, as if feeling the air, and lightly, she put that hand to her temple. With another look to Mukuro, she confirmed,

"You've put that on all of us, haven't you?" she addressed Mammon, who huffed in response.

"His keen sense for illusions as well," they tutted before explaining, "Now do you understand, Fon? Illusions are superior to martial arts. Working inside of the mind, no matter the opponent… I've placed rules inside your head, and just look how easily you've broken them. Pathetic."

"Yes…" Fon sputtered, lifting a hand to wipe blood from his mouth, "I remember… Viper Mirage R."

"Anyone who has doubts of winning," Mammon sneered, "will be crushed!"

There was moment of silence (stunned). And then Ausiliatrice chuckled lightly, turning all eyes to her.

"What a useless illusion…" Ausiliatrice tutted, causing Mammon to scowl, their head whipping to the woman, "as if we don't place enough consequence on ourselves."

(The thought of loss, in the world we were born into? It's already unacceptable)

Mukuro hummed as well, joining her with his amusement.

"I'll admit, it's an intriguing trick," he said, narrowing his eyes, causing Mammon to seethe further, "However, with this group?" he said, gesturing around to Xanxus, to Ausiliatrice, to Hibari, and then looking to Fon, whose time had run out, and now was sitting in his cursed form once more (dejected, still injured and affected by Mammon's illusion),

"Do you really think there's anyone here that would doubt themselves?"

"Enough talk!" Mammon snapped, lifting a hand and pointing at Mukuro, "I'll show you a real illusion battle!"

And the battle was thrown to chaos once more, with illusions deluding the reality of it. Truly, Ausiliatrice thought, exhilarated and in the middle of the fray, this was _battle_. Chaotic, unpredictable; never meeting the same opponent, never clashing with the same wit twice; even if one had plans to attack one opponent, another would always get in the way. Truly, Ausiliatrice thought,

this was _fun_. The most she's had in years.

But this was her mistake, she realized; losing herself in the midst of bloodlust, and forgetting, only thinking of herself and her own life, a bad habit she so easily fell back into (and there was shame in that, wasn't there? The simplicity in which she forgot others). In those moments, she had forgotten about her student, but in so few and so suddenly, she remembered him again.

"Let's end this!" Mammon yelled out, panic edging in their voice after looking at what little time they had left. They threw their arm out to Hibari, just having stepped back after blocking Mukuro's trident, and immediately ice encased the prefect's legs.

"Boss! Now!"

Xanxus's eyes flickered, from Ausiliatrice to Hibari, and in the next moment, Ausiliatrice saw his gun turn towards her student. And in the next, she looked to Hibari, and for the first time since she had met the boy,

She saw true panic ( _fear_ ) in his eyes, and so suddenly she remembered _he was a child_. And he was _her_ student.

Thoughts ran through her head, but her feet were far swifter, throwing herself in front of Kyoya, shooting the ice at his legs, and dislodging him just as Xanxus finished his charge and shot,

and she pushed Kyoya out of the way just in time.

"Ausiliatrice!" Mukuro called, wincing at the bright light, holding an arm up to shield his eyes. From where she had thrown him, Kyoya stared, wide eyes, the effects of Mammon's illusions barely webbing, dreadful and dark against his pale skin.

"Are you alright?" Mukuro called again, seeing a figure sitting as the rubble and dust from the blast cleared.

"Fucking peachy," Ausiliatrice called out, her voice clearly annoyed, "My watch however," she admitted with a roll of her eyes, holding her wrist up, "isn't as resilient as me."

A moment (of shock, the men staring, genuinely surprised). And with a look to their boss, Mammon quickly whispered into their watch, returning to their cursed form and nearly hopping back.

Xanxus's fingers unfurled, and then rewrapped around his guns, scars darkening and bruising his skin at an alarming rate. Red eyes snapped angrily to Ausiliatrice, sending a shot at Mukuro without looking, sending the illusionist skittering back.

"The fuck…" he hissed, and then yelled, "The fuck, you bitch! You could have fucking taken that, so why the hell didn't you, huh?!"

Ausiliatrice remained as the ground, simply blowing a stray hair form her face before turning her eyes to Kyoya.

"I guess I got distracted."

Another moment. And then:

Hibari Kyoya quickly and efficiently scrambled up, dodging Xanxus's rage filled shot just in time, bringing his tonfas up, summoning his Vongola equip and throwing himself into battle once more as if nothing had happened. Ausiliatrice moved just as quickly, moving to Mukuro and pulling him to the side, checking his watch and only frowning slightly at the time.

"He's not wrong, you know," Mukuro tutted, allowing her to pull him, wincing as he watched Xanxus's rage truly peak, "You let your watch get destroyed on purpose."

"I need a chain," she snapped before continuing, sending another look back as Xanxus's rampage ensured behind them, quickly making rubble of the penthouse, "I was going to have you destroy it, but I suppose this will work as well."

Mukuro simply raised an eyebrow, before passing her a chain (conjured easily with his gloves) looking back at the others, realizing that both were moving to make the finishing blow, with only seconds left in the battle.

"Hold on."

And that was the only warning he received before Ausiliatrice pulled him towards her, jumping off the edge of the roof after throwing one of her axes up, catching on the edge and allowing them to hang by the chain she had securely tied to it. Mukuro barely winced once more, looking up to see that Xanxus and Hibari's attacks had decimated the entire floor.

"What the fuck, bitch!" Squalo yelled, having jumped off as well, hanging via his sword stabbed into the side of the building, "You fucking set him off on purpose!"

"Whoever said I wasn't my father's daughter?" Ausiliatrice replied easily, looking up to see their attacks had embered.

"Bet that brat's watch was destroyed," Squalo sneered.

"Xanxus's watch might have been destroyed as well," Ausiliatrice shot back, "by the force of his own attack." Squalo's face immediately soured, and he scowled, seeing her logic.

Mukuro held out a hand to help Ausiliatrice up, but she refused it, pulling herself onto the decimated floor. He took this in stride however, letting out a whistle, looking at the destruction around them.

"To destroy the entire floor…" he muttered, smirking, "What brutality."

"The fuck! His watch is still intact!" Squalo cursed, and they looked to see two figures standing amidst the smoldering ruins; both Xanxus and Hibari stood, breathing heavily and looking worn, and yet? Both of their watching sat on their wrists, completely intact. And as if to prove this fact,

They both beeped loudly, signaling the end of the battle. Ausiliatrice clicked her tongue however, when both of them immediately pouted upon the end of their fight.

"I won't accept this…" Kyoya muttered, looking down at his watch in disdain.

"Don't you _fucking_ ," Ausiliatrice, moving forward, past Xanxus and grabbing Hibari's wrist, "dare. And you too for that matter," he eyes snapped back to Xanxus, "Even thinking about destroying your own watch is idiotic."

"Says the bastard who let her own fucking watch get destroyed!" Xanxus snapped stepped forward. Ausiliatrice narrowed her eyes, releasing Kyoya's wrist, and turning to Xanxus with crossed arms.

"The fuck was that about, huh?" he continued, nearly getting in her face. But seeing her composure (cool and calm, but disappointed, and he nearly winced, realizing how close he had gotten to her without asking), he took a breath, nearly shaking with anger, but managed to calm himself, closing his eyes momentarily before looking at her again. She waited for him, patiently.

"Whatever," he muttered, turning away from her, only to pause, looking back:

"I want a real fight next time, got it? Where you're not distracted by pieces of _shit_ ," he spat, gesturing to Kyoya. Her student nearly growled at this, but she barely flicked her eyes back to him.

"It will be under different circumstances next time," she told Xanxus, before titling her head, her lip quirking and her voice almost sultry, "Promise."

His eyes barely widened at her tone, and then; he smirked, looking her over once more before turning away.

"Let's go, Kyoya," she called, turning to look back at her student, seeing Mukuro disappear in a flurry of mist in her peripheral. However, she was met with a tonfa in response, which she easily caught.

"Don't," he hissed, pressing forward, "think you can tell me what to do. Since you stopped me from biting that Monkey King to death, and you've been _avoiding_ me all night–"

"What's wrong with letting you play with others, Kyoya?" she teased flatly, earning another swipe.

"Fight me," he declared, whipping around from where he stepped forward as consequence of her dodging him, "Now."

She hummed, looking down on him with amusement, taking in his clearly exhausted state.

"Fine. If that's what you want."

* * *

"It's… scary, isn't it? Those Vindice?" Meilin asked as Ausiliatrice entered the room once more, placing Fon's boss watch on the counter between them. Suyin barely squirmed in her mother's arms, fitful in her sleep. Ausiliatrice frowned, noticing this.

"It's strange, them appearing now…" she muttered, and then blinking, realizing she was staring at the child. Quickly (guilty?) Ausiliatrice looked away.

"But you're not changing your plans, are you?" Meilin said knowingly, with an air of amusement.

"Now that Fon owes me for saving his boss watch–"

"That Kyoya almost destroyed himself, you said? That boy," Meilin sighed, looking to his room where Ausiliatrice had laid him after returning, "But I already told you, I've already convinced Father to let you fight on our team. If I have to take care of Suyin, someone might as well fight in my place."

"Thank you, Meilin."

"You've been become quite the tutor, haven't you?" the older woman said, her voice lifting and coming across as teasing. Ausiliatrice huffed and looked away. Suyin once again murmured, unsettled in her sleep.

"First fighting alongside Chrome, then having Kyoya fight against Mukuro and Xanxus, and now wanting Chrome to fight against you while you fight by Kyoya's side…. But does your father know? That you're no longer fighting for him?" Meilin said, this thought just now occurring to her. Ausiliatrice's expression remained neutral.

"He knew," she said evenly, "that I was never fighting for him in the first place. Not really. And besides," she said with a sigh (but was this sad, annoyed?), "he's doing the same."

Meilin opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Suyin's piercing cry, suddenly waking from her sleep and frightful. In the next moment, the two women stiffened, Ausiliatrice immediately rising and pulling a gun, turning to aim at the inky black hole that opened from the thin air behind them.

Meilin let out a shivering breath of air as a cloaked figure stepped from it, chains falling and clinking around them. And although the ghastly figure's face was bandaged, Ausiliatrice could tell,

They were looking right at her.

"Ausiliatrice…" a voice seeped from the Vindice, and Ausiliatrice barely narrowed her eyes. Meilin shifted, pivoting to where Suyin was turned away from the intruder, while reaching a hand to take the boss watch from the counter, holding it. Kyoya remained unconscious in the next room, and Fon gone with the rest of Arcobaleno to check on Skull.

"Come with me," the figured demanded, letting a chain fall and clank to the floor.

And the dark-skinned woman barely lifted her chin, her gun still pointed at the Vindice. And with a tilt of her head, she vapidly displayed her teeth, and answered:

"Since you asked nicely."

* * *

 _"And she was truly a puzzle, but God forgive anyone who mistook her for a game."_

 ** _-Sophia Carey_**

* * *

 _Bonus:_

 _I was planning on making this a scene, but it ended up not fitting? So I decided to add this altered version here at the end instead. So this is a phone call that Dino was going to make to Ausil right after the battles, but the mood of it didn't end up fitting for me. So, enjoy it here!_

"Hey, Ausil - I know, sorry, Ausiliatrice: Yeah, so like... did you talk to Tsuna or anything? Specifically, did you talk to him about his dad? Uh huh... of course, you did, yeah, why? Why do you ask? Oh, no reason really... except that he totally went off on him tonight!? As in, he _still_ is! Listen! Yes, that _is_ Tsuna, he _still_ ranting _to_ his dad _about_ his dad! Ausil! Ausil, stop laughing! Ausil!"

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Guys I just finished registering for next semester and confirmed my classes I'm so happy. Whoo! Anyways, yay! Update! After so long because evenly is slowly dying. Having fun and loving her major, but slowly dying. Whoo!_

 _So, the AU chapter might not be for a while, because I'm slowly gathering the little stories and working on them when I get time. In the meantime, for an easier award, anyone want to send in questions for Ausil to answer again? I could do a small segment like that again while I work on the AUs? Let me know your thoughts, and of course, let me know your thoughts on the chapter! Cliffhanger, lmao._

 _Sorry if there are mistakes, I'll try to look it over in the morning again before going to work on clay, but for now, I shall pass out. Peace._

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **Poppy:** Glad that you liked the story and my writing! Thanks for the review! _

_**Guest:** Lmao, I could totes see Ausil just fucking killing it in the hunger games, and winning so easily. Thanks for the review, and I'll try to see if I can think of something to write for that! _

_**Guest 27:** I meant Avatar: the Last Airbender, to clarify! I always forget about the "other" Avatar, lmao. And I actually can't see much of a plot for a Death Note AU that would fit Ausil? I mean, if she found it, she just kind of think that killing people that way would be boring af, and wouldn't roll with it. Which, I guess I could write a funny scene with that? Huh. Thanks for the review!_


	39. Lesson 39: To Break

**Chapter 39:** To Break

* * *

 _"Love, they tell me. But love doesn't bring and never has brought happiness. On the contrary, it's a constant state of anxiety, a battle field; it's sleepless nights, asking ourselves all the time if we're doing the right thing. Real love is composed of ecstasy and agony."_

 ** _-Paulo Coelho_**

* * *

"I feel I should apologize, old friend," Fon said, looking to Reborn. The wind shifted slightly, billowing the Storm Arcobaleno's robes. Reborn lifted a hand, gently gripping his fedora in order to keep it from shifting in the soft night wind. Fon continued his thought, "I did not mean to steal a representative, no less your daughter from your team."

"You don't have to apologize on her behalf. Or at all," Reborn said, his voice stiff.

"Have you talked yet," Fon went on, gentle, "about anything? I know your focus is on Sawada Tsunayoshi but – "

"I'm not," Reborn snapped, jumping off the wall they had been perching on, "neglecting her, if that's what you're getting at. She's not a little girl, Fon." He turned, continuing on his way back the house (after having visited Skull in the hospital with the others of the rainbow), but Fon's next words stopped him.

"She's your little girl. They never truly grow in our eyes. At least," Fon said, glowing warmly, "Meilin never really did for me."

Almost a flinch, Reborn considered turning towards his companion, to pursue this conversation, this train of thought –

But a distant, upcoming noise derailed these terrifying thoughts. Both Arcobalenos turned curiously towards the interruption, and Reborn drew cold immediately upon seeing Atalanta, brilliant and glistening and sprinting towards them,

His daughter not at her side per usual.

"Atalanta, was it?" Fon muttered, the same amount of concern in his eyes, but his focus instead on the bundle attached and wrapped around Atalanta, the bundle that was squirming on her side. The lioness slid to a stop in front of them, yowling and rearing her head, indicating to the way she came before her jowl went to the wrappings; gently despite her hurriedness, she cut through the blanket, and then put its contents in front of the two,

Revealing Suyin, squirming and crying, nestled in the mess of blanket.

Fon was gone before Reborn could even turn to him, sprinting down the wall, making his way to the Hibari residence. Reborn scowled, uttering a small curse before addressing Atalanta;

"Take Suyin to Nana Sawada."

And he was off as well.

* * *

Reborn caught up with Fon easily enough, the martial artist being frantic and sloppy with his movements (so unlike him, so unusual, but this was of family, of daughters, of what he valued most in the world, what _was_ his world), and fell into step with his fellow Arcobaleno. He was silent, knowing words would not breach through the worry. But this led Reborn's own worry to fester, despite logic trying to keep it at bay.

Deep concern spiked to cold realization when they reached their destination;

The once pristine estate mirrored ruins, rubble littering the front of the house, the front wall violently forced outward, revealing a wrecked living space. Indications of chains, lashing and violent, were strewn across the area, along with shadows of bullets and the lickings of flames. But this was not the center piece of the tragedy:

Ausiliatrice sat on folded knees, bent over the unmoving body of Meilin. Dark hands pressed on the other woman's midsection, blood surprisingly bright against Ausiliatrice's skin. Before their approach, she sat quietly murmuring and shaking her head, tainted hands flickering with forced flames. Her head jerked up when they approached, Fon's eyes wide and staring at his daughter's body.

(Still breathing, Reborn noticed, but barely and for how much longer?)

His daughter did not seem to acknowledge he was there, and her wide, absent eyes were on Fon. Reborn was a witness to the memories playing in her head, as if she were reliving a nightmare. Finally, Fon spoke, choking the words out,

"What happened to my daughter?"

( _"Where is my son?"_ )

And a single tear slid down Ausiliatrice's face.

* * *

"He doesn't blame you."

Abyssal eyes continued to look forward at the blank wall before her. Reborn blinked (a flinch) and looked away, almost mirroring his daughter. She stood outside the emergency room, severe red from the sign above it harshly warming her skin. She leaned against the wall, forgoing the benches available, eyes never leaving the opposing wall.

Her fingers were wrung around the ring on her neck, her shoulders, slumped and yet taut, as if a heavy weight was draped across them. Her eyes were wide and inky as always,

but they reflected a blank sky, as opposed to their usual void.

He stood on the bench beside her, unsure of what to say.

After calling to check on Tsunayoshi and to make sure Collennello was with them, he learned that most every other team was attacked as well in an out of bounds fight. However Fon, who was outside mediating on the roof (far more comfortable waiting to hear the fate of his daughter when he was more in his element), seemed to be the Arcobaleno who had lost the most in this battle.

"That's not," Ausiliatrice finally answered, her voice terrifying quiet, "who I'm … that's not the blame –" Ausiliatrice scowled, ending her sentence due to frustration.

Another silence, heavy.

And then Dino burst through the door, eyes wide and searching, but relieved the moment he saw Ausiliatrice. He opened his mouth, but then closed it, changing his opening statement.

"Hibari is with Fon, on the roof. I brought him like you said," he nodded to Reborn, and then addressed both of them, "and I stopped by Nana's room on the way here, and she's stable as well –"

"Nana Sawada was attacked?" Ausiliatrice said, voice slicing. Dino blinked, and looked to Reborn.

"You didn't tell her?" the don said in disbelief. Reborn opened his mouth, almost a grimace. Dino frowned, and looked back to Ausiliatrice.

"She's fine, and just here for precautionary measures. She wasn't directly hit, but Iemitsu -

"Who is Suyin with?" Ausiliatrice asked, interrupting.

"Uni," Reborn answered, "when I heard about Mama, I sent her to Uni."

"Who is well protected by her family," Dino assured her quickly, "and since they aren't participating anymore, they shouldn't be attacked."

Ausiliatrice let out a ragged breath, scowling and looking to the ground, glaring;

She gave the ring around her neck one more squeeze before storming out, the doors swinging violently in the wake of her exit. Dino watched her go, sadly. Reborn titled his fedora, once more shadowing his face. Dino turned and took a step, only to stop and turn back to his tutor.

"Reborn," he said, his voice firm, but quiet, "Reborn, she needs you. Now more than ever."

And with his face still obscured, the hitman replied,

"I…. I can't be there for her, Dino. Not like I need to be."

Dino's mouth fell open slightly, and then firmly closed. And with clenched fist and solid steps,

He went after Ausiliatrice, leaving Reborn alone in the room.

* * *

 _"Lonely is a funny thing," she said slowly. "It's almost like another person. After a while, it'll keep you company if you'll let it."_

 ** _-Ann Packer, The Dive from Clausen's Pier_**

* * *

"Ausil –"

"Don't," she muttered without turning, her hand covering part of her face, "Don't Dino, don't call me that now, I can't take it. Not now. Not again. Not again…" she muttered, trailing off. Dino stopped, the hand that he had reached out with dropping.

"Please," he said, taking a soft step back, giving her more space, "Please don't blame what happened to Meilin on yourself."

"Like I have a fucking choice," she snapped, turning to him, "As if every fucking person in my life hasn't gotten fucked up in some way because of me. First Mateus," she barely choked out the name, "and now Meilin – no it was my mother before then, before I was even born I was causing problems and killing people. How can I not," she choked out again, looking up and to the window, her hand falling down to hold her necklace (and in the moonlight, Dino could see the pricks of tears, glimmering but not fallen), "how can I not blame myself? How can I not go through that endless fucking cycle of always wishing it was me and not them?" A breath, shaky. Then:

"I'm tired, Dino," she admitted, looking out the window, "I'm tired and scared of distancing myself, and then losing the people I care about anyway."

(Like father like daughter)

She had always been confident in herself, but the few times she had been confident in others? Those, like everything else in her life, led to tragedies.

He hesitated, and then he stepped forward, reaching out once more. He looked to her, waiting. She shivered once, and then allowed him to envelope her, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Dino didn't know what to say, but he knew that she didn't need him to say anything. This, he hoped, would be enough.

He stiffened, feeling her hand shift, and realized that she was resting it on her stomach.

"What if..." she muttered sadly, scared (terrified).

"Please," He said, shifting as well in order to take her hand, "don't focus on those. Instead… If you want, if it will help…" he muttered, staring down and almost marveling at their contact,

"Instead, can you tell me about Mateus?"

* * *

 _"She rarely collapses, but when she does it's the quiet form of the sky splitting in two."_

 ** _-S.S_**

* * *

"What are you doing, Ausil? Laying with another man?"

She opened her eyes daintily, meeting his soft-toned brown ones. She smiled, just as.

"You know I don't 'lay' with anyone," she whispered, taking in the details of his face breathing them in, as if it were her last breath. She moved her hand, trailing it over the soft covers and hesitated, and then caressed his face. Her thumb circled his cheek, feeling the rough, and yet familiar, so familiar texture; after all these years, she still recalled, after all these years, the contact was comforting and familiar.

"But this is a lie," she said, regretfully, still smiling, but there was an echo, a sadness to it, deeply rooted. Pain.

"If it were really you," she said, her thumb still circling his cheek methodically, but lightly, "then you would want me to be happy. If you were here, then I wouldn't be…" she trailed off, looking into his eyes once more.

"I miss you," She said first, stopping her movements, and letting her hand fall from his face and then trail to his chest.

"I know," he said, looking pained, if not just as pained as her.

"I miss you," she said again, letting her smile drop, feeling an emptiness, another echo, when she felt no heart beat beneath her hand. "But," she continued, "I have already let you go."

"I know," He said again. And he smiled, because he did know. She knew, she knew, _she knew_.

Because this was a dream, and when she woke up, he would be gone once more. Another forever to wash away.

* * *

Dark lashes fluttered open, and she found herself looking at Dino. In that moment, she was confused, until the lingerings of her dream wore away. She lifted her hand, hesitating, before reaching to push strands of hair from his face. Her fingertips lingering on his cheek and then brushed his closed eyelids. Barely, he shifted, but seemed content to continue sleeping. In that moment, there was peace, and it was then Ausiliatrice realized that she enjoyed it, this type of quiet.

But that moment, this peaceful haze was shattered instantly by the loud beeping of the watch laying in a chair beside the bed. Dino shot up, scrabbling and nearly falling out of the bed if not for Ausiliatrice grabbing him. She scowled, setting him back in place and grabbing the watch in a fluid movement.

"Midnight?! Really?!" Dino groaned, running a hand through his head, eyes already looking around the spare hospital room for their weapons and belongings.

"We have to find the others," Ausiliatrice said, already having put her shoes on and now shouldering her jacket.

"What about Fon, Hibari?" Dino asked, "Don't we need to let them and –"

"I'm not going to allow him to fight now. I'm not letting him get hurt just because of his fucking pride," she said, her voice twinged with bitterness, recognizing that irony. "And I'm not letting children fight those monsters alone just to learn a fucking lesson. I'll deal with Kyoya later, but we have to find the others now."

"It's not like you're in top shape either, Ausil!" Dino pointed out, nearly tripping as he hopped on one foot, putting his shoe on the other one, "You fought the Varia and the Vindice last night!"

"I heal fast," she tutted, throwing him his whip, "I've got to pick up the rest of the watches from Fon, then we'll track those motherfuckers down," she spat darkly, "for what they did to Meilin."

Almost bewildered, Dino watched her leave the room. Then with a start, he followed, sighing in exasperation, but also with _relief_.

(He was glad, in a way, that she was back to her normal self)

* * *

"I still think we shouldn't have stolen a bike, Au -AUSIL!" Dino nearly shrieked, flinching and holding on tighter as Ausiliatrice revved the engine.

"If you were so against it, then you shouldn't have gotten on," she shot back at him, narrowing her eyes then taking a tight turn, causing Dino to hold on even tighter to her waist than he was, "and besides, I said I would give it back."

"After you flirted with him to get it in the first place!"

"Have you gotten through?" She asked, changing the subject. Dino frowned, and shifted, looking at the phone in his hand.

"Nobody's picking up, so –"

"They must already be fighting," Ausiliatrice finished with a frown. Dino swallowed, noticing how they sped up through the streets of Namimori.

"It's a small town," Dino assured her, "we should be able to find them – Watch out!"

Ausiliatrice's eyes widened, having seen the incoming chains before Dino could announce the attack. Jerking the handles, the bike slid underneath the chains, spinning completely and skidding to a stop.

"What the _hell_ ," Dino breathed out, eyes still wide. Instead of acknowledging his remark, she nodded instead to the inky blackness in which the chains had emerge from.

A tall, shadowed figure stepped from it, ghastly in its appearance, but wearing different accessories than the one from the night before, Ausiliatrice noticed. Locks of hair bled through the bandages of their head, which was adorned with a tattered top hat. No, she corrected herself, not just one figure stepped out of the portal;

There was a smaller bandaged figure on the large one's shoulder, with a clear pacifier.

"Bermuda, was it?" Ausiliatrice greeted coldly.

"We need to talk," the small figure announced. Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed, trained on the chains the taller figure was holding.

"My last discussion with one of yours was exactly favorable," she said flatly.

"I'm willing to forgive the unfortunate damage you inflicted upon my subordinate if you remain civil now," the Arcobaleno tutted, indifferent. Dino felt Ausiliatrice stiffen, his arms still looped around her waist.

"And what about the damage they inflicted upon one of mine, huh?" she spat back, venomous.

"An unfortunate casualty."

Dino jerked back, startled as Ausiliatrice broke from him, firing rapidly at the two figures as she walked towards them, the clicking of her heels merging with the sound of her gunshots. The figure's arms became a blur as they easily flicked their chain, intercepting each and every bullet until Ausiliatrice stopped, glaring boldly at her adversaries.

A moment, thick and tangible with tension.

"Now that you've got that out of your system," Bermuda stated, their voice barely tinged with dry amusement, "I've wanted to talk to you for quite some time, Ausiliatrice."

"To get to Reborn," she guessed easily.

"Smart girl," the arcobaleno allowed.

"Tough fucking luck for you," she said with a snarl of a smirk, "My old man and I aren't exactly close."

"Blood is blood, and blood split is still as insult," Bermuda replied easily. Ausiliatrice's eyes narrowed once more, and Dino shifted, hand reaching for his whip.

"A threat?"

"A statement. I've noticed you've been doing research yourself, and even made moves to help guide your interrogator in the right direction, but," Bermuda continued before Ausiliatrice or Dino could question them, "That's not why I approached you tonight. Information is information, but I have a feeling that Reborn would take it more seriously if this came from one of his own. I need you to deliver a message for him."

"I'm not a fucking delivery girl, Bermuda," Ausiliatrice warned, gripped her gun once more. The other figure moved, barely shifting his chains.

"This no regular message, Ausiliatrice."

"Oh?" She amused him, "What would you call it then?"

"An invitation."

* * *

 _"I have stars in my eyes and fire in my bones, but I'm still broken."_

 ** _-Nikko G._**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Guys, this is definitely the calm before the storm situation. As in, the last canon chapter may be next chapter, or at least like two or three chapters from now. Short chapter, but I didn't want to throw too much at you, and this was honestly emotionally exhausting for me to write, along with a scene from the next chapter. This chapter and the next are very important both story and character wise, so they're a doozy to write, whoo!_

 _So, explanation for the long break: A lot of shit happened in my life, like I worked on a movie this summer as the art director, script supervisor and set dresser, my depression hit me really hard but I got medicated and am now a lot more stable, and then a good friend of mine died suddenly, so I've had an emotional time, and so writing really wasn't a priority for me. But now I'm about to start classes again and trying to get in the swing of things, so I'm going to try to get this up and running again!_

 _Also, heads up, I am taking requests on my tumblr blogs, so head there if you want to see anything drawn out. Also, I set up a Buy me Coffee page, since I'm a poor college student, so if you like any of my work and want to help me out, the link is in my tumblr bio as well._

 _I'm also still taking suggestions for the AU, and am slowly putting that together, so if you have any more ideas, let me know fam._

 _ **Review Response:**_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 8):** Aw, sorry you cried, but not sorry? Glad that you thought the chapter was beautiful though, you're making me blush. Thanks for the review!_


	40. Lesson 40: To Talk

**Chapter 40: Her Mother Taught Her To Talk**

* * *

 _"'Don't you know? That's the secret. If you always make sure you're exactly the person you hoped to be, if you always make sure you know only the very best people, then you won't care if you die tomorrow."_

 _'That doesn't make any sense. If you were so happy, then you'd want to stay alive, wouldn't you? You'd want to be alive forever, so you could keep being happy.'_

 _'No, no. It's the most unhappy people who want to stay alive, because they thing they haven't done everything they want to do. The thing they haven't had enough time. They feel they've been short-changed.'"_

 ** _-Carol Rifka Brunt (Tell the Wolves I'm Home)_**

* * *

"No, Reborn!"

Chrome looked away just as Tsuna disappeared into the inkiness that sucked Reborn in first, turning to see Dino arriving in a blaze of sky flames erupting from his box weapon's mane. His expression was of panic and deep concern, somehow merging the two in a deep scowl, nearly glaring at where the portal had been.

"Cavallone!" Mukuro snapped, turning to the boss, "Weren't you supposed to be with Ausiliatrice? Why did Bermuda say that she was waiting for Reborn? Where did they take her?"

Quickly, Chrome put herself between Mukuro and Dino, holding placid hands up to the other illusionist.

"Please, we're _all_ worried," she told him, pleading with wide eyes. She indicated to Yamamoto and Gokudera, who had just witnessed their boss disappear as well. The others were breathing ragged too, recovering from the fight with the Vindice that had only just ended. Mukuro narrowed his eyes, then nodded in understanding. He took a breath and a step back, calming himself. Chrome was reminded of his bond with Ausiliatrice, and frowned, knowing.

"Well," Verde quipped, clearly annoyed with the lack of information he was getting, "Are you going to explain anything, Cavallone?"

"Do you know where they went?" Yamamoto asked, concerned. Dino sighed, running a rapid hand through his hair.

"Bermuda stopped us on the way to get to you guys, and I thought Ausiliatrice wasn't…. He said something, and she just – she just went with them?!" He said, becoming frustrated again.

"He said something about what?" Chrome asked, hesitantly. Dino's lips formed a firm line, and then morphed into another scowl.

"The truth."

* * *

The truth of the Arcobaleno. Something Reborn had always yearned, _needed_ to know. The unveiling of the curse that ruined his life, and the lives of those he had the chance to care for. The indication of the truth was enough incentive to get him to go alone with Bermuda,

But when he said that Ausiliatrice was already waiting for them?

In a way it was ironic; Bermuda giving more to his daughter than Reborn himself ever could. Although Reborn felt anger spike at first, in the end, he was glad she was there. She deserved to know the truth behind the Arcobaleno (behind his life, behind her life).

Learning about the cycle of the Arcobaleno, however, Reborn realized something, quite suddenly. Quite painfully.

Ausiliatrice would be a perfect candidate for an Arcobaleno. Surely, she was one of the strongest of her era. Her flames were efficient enough, her strength, undoubted. Truly, she was his daughter, and that he realized, was just as much of a curse as the one he bared.

For the first time in a long time, true fear struck Reborn. But then,

Resolve overtook that fear.

This, he decided, tilting his fedora down as Bermuda asked Reborn to join their cause, he could do for his daughter.

(Finally, he had something essential to give)

* * *

Dull brown eyes stared at the ground, and barely, Tsunayoshi jumped when he felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

Ausiliatrice and Tsunayoshi stood alone on the street, Reborn having left them immediately after giving his answer to Bermuda.

"I'll give you a ride back," Ausiliatrice told the boy, nodding her head to the bike that was discarded earlier (the Vindice drooping them off where they had picked up Ausiliatrice), "and you should contact the others, let them know you're fine."

"… yeah," Tsuna nodded numbly, "yeah, okay."

As Ausiliatrice picked up the bike, throwing her leg over it and waiting for Tsunayoshi, she replayed her father's answer:

 _"I'll consider it."_

Consider? Relent? Die like a fucking dog and give up? Her hand gripped the handle bar violently, and she revved the motorcycle, causing it to lurch forward. Tsunayoshi jumped, gripping her waist, nearly burying himself in her back, hiding in her hair.

The truth of the Arcobaleno was almost underwhelming for her, and it enraged Ausiliatrice. Seven strongest to protect the Tri-ni-set, sacrificing themselves? It was ridiculous, how everything circled back to that. Sacrifice Ausiliatrice understood, but she was tired of the concept, tired of losing people. The idea of death had shadowed her for too long.

She thought back to Shamal and the information she had just received from him; he concluded that Checker Face had been hiring and using the Cervello the entire time, making sure the rings fell into place. And now the bastard himself was making sure things were running smoothly, personally taking out the middle man after they had fucked up in the future.

Ausiliatrice felt sick, knowing that this was all a game to pick the next lambs to be slaughtered. Her hunch had been right in the end, and this did nothing to reassure her. And now even her father was…

What? Willing to sacrifice himself and for what? For her? For Tsunayoshi?

Either way, he was a coward, for accepting death so easily. Or was she the coward, for not knowing what to do to stop him? It hit her suddenly as she slowed to a stop in front of Tsunayoshi address,

How little time she had spent with her father, and how suddenly he would leave her again. Regret filled her, and it was even more tragic with the awareness of their own refusal to reach out to each other. But what were they to do? They can't help but feel estranged, being absent figures in both their lives.

This wasn't a fairy tale, she reminded herself once more. Her life was a tragedy, and she was well aware of this.

"Ausiliatrice…" Tsuna muttered, stopping just as he got off the bike, his arms slipping from around her. She hesitated then looked at him, frowning. Then, she realized:

"Tsunayoshi… please, don't let him die."

(She wasn't the hero of this story, was she?)

* * *

Reborn walked out of the meeting with the other Arcobaleno, still mulling over the truth he just shared with them and his decision, but was surprised to see Dino waiting for him. His former student smiled, forceful and awkward.

"Can… Can we talk? Or really, can I talk?" Dino asked, letting out a breath, "I really need to get something off my chest."

Reborn nodded once, and began walking. Dino plopped down on the bench they had chosen in a nearby park, while Reborn hopped up onto it. Dino allowed a moment of silence before speaking again.

"Look, you don't have to talk, because I know you won't," he began and Reborn allowed him this, "But," Dino continued, only allowing a moment of hesitation before his resolve hardened,

"It's okay to be scared. It doesn't have to be logical. Family is great but…. It's also terrifying. Attachment, caring, putting emotional attachment to others; that happens with logic or reason or rhyme. You can't stop those types of relationships, especially if they're connected by blood. But…. You can choose whether or not that relationship will be good or bad. Or at least," he said with guilt, clearly thinking of his own father, "you can try. You can try your best. I won't force you and her to talk or anything. But I won't leave her alone when she's clearly reaching."

Reborn remained silent, and again, Dino allowed this. Another breath, and he continued,

"And look, you've tutored me, you're doing great tutoring, Tsuna – " and only here did Reborn interrupt:

"Tutoring," Reborn said, suddenly sneering, "is different. Tutoring is transferring knowledge, skill…. She already has that and more, without my help, without anyone's help. There is _nothing_ ," he said, finally (at last at last, admitting it out loud), "I can give her but suffering. Death because of me, because of her connection to me. Death," he said, his expression hardening, "is the only thing I can give my daughter."

And he sighed and slumped forward, a weight lifted off of him. And Dino frowned, a look of empathy, seeing his tutor's tiredness, seeing his age in his eyes, in his shadow. Seeing years of fear and regret stripped and bared.

Dino sighed and slumped as well, this movement so light in comparison to Reborn's collapse.

"You can label it whatever you want Reborn, but…." Dino said, pushing himself up, opening his phone to look at Ausiliatrice's text once more (where she assured him that she was fine and had returned safely),

"You were more of a dad to me than my father ever was. I need you to know that."

* * *

Dino was surprised, opening the hotel room door to find Tsunayoshi sitting on the bed with Ausiliatrice, both looking serious, but oddly determined.

"Dino!" Tsuna perked up immediately, despite being clearly tired, "Good, I need to tell you this too!"

Dino quirked an eyebrow, and looked to Ausiliatrice,

And was surprised to see a smile on her face, genuine and bright. And this made him smile too.

(Behind them, out the window, the sun was rising)

* * *

On the fourth day of representative battles, exactly at 3:00 PM, the final battle started. The watches signaled loudly, echoing in the empty area of the park. It quieted immediately, leaving only the sound of the trickling fountain, and the wind stirring the trees and leaves.

They waited as Bermuda haughtily spoke to Reborn, but as soon as the Sun Arcobaleno stated his refusal and both the puppets and the illusion covering them was broken?

Ausiliatrice stepped out from the men around her, weapons and teeth bared (Xanxus, Squalo, Byakuran Mukuro and Byakuran; all predators and formidable, along with Dino at her side, and yet?).

"I'll go first," Ausiliatrice snarled, Atalanta mirroring this at her side, "for Meilin."

(the time for talk was over)

* * *

 _"Girls like her are born from thunderstorms and thrive in tsunamis."_

 ** _\- girls like her are immortal – (p.b)_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _Okay, so hella short chapter, but heeeey I'm back! Kind of. So the reason this is so short because the next chapter will for sure be the second to last Story-Chapter or the last one depending on whether I want combine them together which I will most likely do honestly. And the tone of this chapter did not fit with that, so I decided to make it its own thing in preparation for what happens next. And sorry for not updating for so long, this semester has been crazy and there have been an odd amount of deaths in my life, and the next chapter is hella emotional, because you know... it's the end. So a lot of ends to kind of tie up. So I've had a lot of trouble continuing to write this story because it does get emotional for me, and I become unhappy with a lot of my writing for it, scrap it and start over. But I do enjoy writing it and I want to finish it. So no worries._

 _So again, sorry for the short chapter, but look forward to a long ass chapter next time. Whoo! It's really happening guys, this story is about to come to a close. Thanks so much for reading!_

 _Also, Sorry if I haven't responded to your review, my email been messing up on me again, so I'm going to try to go through and respond to reviews after I post this chapter._

 _ **Review Response:** _

_**Guest (Chapter 39)** : Holy shit, long reviews like this mean so much to me, and I just want to thank you so much for taking the time to write all of that out. One of my the reasons I wrote this story in the first place is to write a more realistic interaction between Reborn and a possible child of his, because I don't think I've come a story where that concept is acknowledged, so I'm glad that you found truth in that interaction. I also really just appreciate your comments on everything else, especially Ausiliatrice's relationship with Dino and Xanxus, I couldn't phrase that better myself. Once again, thanks again for the long beautiful review, and I hope the rest of the story doesn't disappoint!_

 _ **Guest (Chapter 39):** No problem, I love replying to reviews and hearing what you guys think! And Aw, thanks for liking my sad writing I guess? Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you enjoy the next! _

_**Guest (Chapter 39):** Thanks for hoping I'll feel better! It's been tough and weird, but I'm definitely doing better than I was, haha. Thanks for the good wishes and for the review! _

_-Evenly_


	41. Lesson 41: To Fight

**Chapter 41: Her Mother Taught Her to Fight**

* * *

 _"I am flesh and I am bone_

 _Rise up, ting ting, like glitter and gold_

 _I've got fire in my soul_

 _Rise up, ting ting, like glitter_

 _Like glitter and gold_

 _Do you walk in the valley of kings?_

 _Do you walk in the shadow of men_

 _Who sold their lives to a dream?_

 _Do you ponder the manner of things_

 _In the dark_

 _The dark, the dark, the dark"_

 _- **"Glitter and Gold", Barns Courtney**_

* * *

 _"I get the first hit," Ausiliatrice stated evenly, "Janken be damned."_

 _"You expect me to let you fight him alone?" Mukuro asked, nearly offended and wisely interrupting before Byakuran could point out that he was the true winner of the childish match._

 _"Not very likely, bitch," Xanxus sneered, hand nearing his hip, "I'll take that bastard down so you don't have to raise a dainty fucking finger." Tsunayoshi made an uncomfortable sound, looking between the powerful entities around him, on the verge of conflict. Although, truly, he should have expected this, bringing this many powerful players into one space to go over their final plan._

 _"You misunderstand," Ausiliatrice stated icily, holding up a placid hand to Dino, was seemed ready to play peacemaker, "I said that I would take the first blow. What happens after," she continued, her eyes travelling evenly throughout the group,_

 _"Will be a fucking free for all," Eyes void-filled and livid, this energy radiated off of her, "I don't give a fuck who I'm fighting with, as long as those bastards go down."_

 _(But it was nice, she thought to herself as she looked at those around her, to fight with allies)_

 _(Friends? Perhaps)_

* * *

Jager reviewed Ausiliatrice carefully after she stepped forward, Atalanta shimmering at her owner's side. He scoffed coldly, chains clinking in ribbons around him as he stepped forward, Bermuda choosing to float back from his representative's shoulder.

"I don't care about your intentions," Jager stated, fingers circling around his chains, "I'm going to attack you all at once. You shouldn't be careless."

"I've never been the type for caution," Ausiliatrice nearly teased, animosity radiating off her voice, body, expression, the air tingling with her willingness to fight.

"Let's dance, motherfucker," she sneered, squaring up her opponent,

But being surprised, cold seizing her when he disappeared only to appear behind Xanxus, slicing forward with his chains, and removing his arm. A moment of pure, deafening silence,

And then both Ausiliatrice and Squalo roared with rage, Ausiliatrice moving forward far faster than Squalo, just as Xanxus shot where Jager had been. Dino let out a yell (something about short warp?) just before their opponent appeared in front of Ausiliatrice, chains instances away from wrapping around her arm.

A moment of shock on Ausiliatrice's part, and then with a blink, a steel wall appeared between the woman and the Vindice, separating them, the chains penetrating the barrier. A quick look to Mukuro, and then Ausiliatrice stepped to the side of the barrier, joining Squalo in his attack while Jager was momentarily distracted.

For a moment, it seemed as if one of them would get a hit. But it only took Jager a moment to recover, warping once more to Squalo's side, and sending a stream of chain's through the swordsman's heart, nearly piercing Ausiliatrice as well if not for Atalanta, who had grabbed at Ausiliatrice's jacket to pull her owner out of the way.

Ausiliatrice felt warmth splatter on her face, but Xanxus (arm still riveting blood) was in proximity as well.

"Real blood," Jager noted, the first moment of rest in the few seconds of violence, "Seems like this time I didn't kill a puppet."

Xanxus's foot moved to nudge Squalo's body, but already, Ausiliatrice sent a look to Atalanta. The lioness arced forward, gently grabbing Squalo's shoulder and beginning to drag the wounded (dead? _God_ , was he already dead?) body away. Ausiliatrice looked to Xanxus in this brief moment of calm, seeing scars blossom across his skin.

Red (vibrant, beautiful) eyes met her black, and in that moment, she truly could see the beauty of his rage. Xanxus's hand burst with flames, and with a livid grimace he placed it on his own wound, sealing it.

Dino, Mukuro, and Byakuran repositioned themselves, taking this small moment to regroup before Jager went forward again,

Out to kill, not even to win. How disgraceful, Ausiliatrice thought, moving back again only for Jager to warp behind her. The woman was barely able to dodge, a large slice appearing in her side, before their opponent went after Byakuran.

Mukuro was ready once more with his defense, but this time it didn't seem to matter. Jager's arm appeared in Byakuran's torso, leaving one less to battle,

But Byakuran was sly, Ausiliatrice was reminded, and took the time to grip Jager's arm before falling completely, giving Xanxus a chance to shoot their opponent with flames of wrath. But both Ausiliatrice and Dino witnessed Jaeger's attention shift to Xanxus,

And Ausiliatrice was the faster out of all the remaining fighters.

Sliding forward and closing the distance just as Jager warped, Ausiliatrice managed to block the chains that were heading for Xanxus's knees, pulling out one of her axes just in time to meet the chains. Jager's expression barely morphed when his weapons wrapped around Ausiliatrice's, halting his onslaught.

She tugged her weapon forward, but Jager let go of his chains, simply producing more and moving on, warping once more. But Ausiliatrice was prepared now, watching his eyes before he warped, dropping her ax and meeting him with her guns drawn this time.

Reborn stepped forward, hand gripping his pacifier, tempted. But Verde called out, reminding him of his plan only to release his curse when Tsunayoshi arrived (but how long would that be? Could Reborn wait this long watching these fighters, his student, his daughter be cut down like this?).

Briefly, he recalled his earlier conversation with Tsunayoshi, with his student convincing him to live. But what for? What if this plan didn't work? It had to, he realized. For his students. For his daughter.

But what did that matter if she died here, right in front of his eyes when he still had the _time_ to help her.

"I suppose you really are his daughter," Jager breathed out, almost as a taunt, separating just as Xanxus shot at him, "it's a pity then," he continued, his eyes flickering to Mukuro, and in that moment, fear seized Ausiliatrice, her head barely turning, eyes merely flickering to the child she feel she has sworn to protect,

Before Jager appeared in front of her, his hand penetrating the middle of her chest,

"To spill the blood of someone with such potential," Jager finished as blood splattered and trickled from Ausiliatrice's mouth.

Time seemed to slow in that moment, and be measured in heartbeats (she had always loved, _loved_ , heartbeats). Slow and methodically, she witnessed the world around her:

In one heartbeat, she heard screams of rage. Mukuro was aghast and silent, watching one he swore to protect with a hand in her chest (because of him, _because of him_ , he saw her look at him right before it happened), and Dino held this same expression, although was quick to take to action. Still, he was never as close as he needed to be, was he?

In another heartbeat, she heard Xanxus's shriek of rage, so similar to her own when she had witnessed his attack earlier. She supposed, however, that this was much more serious than a simple arm falling off.

Heartbeat, and she felt her own arm rise as Jager was distracted by Xanxus raising his gun, and a she realized that she had the barrel pressed against his neck,

Heartbeat, she shot, her bullet tearing at the already tattered skin of his neck. Her vision was ebbing, black tinging the edges as if she were looking through a vignette. She grinned, watching as Jager fell back just as she crumpled to the ground, his hand slipping out from the gaping hole of her chest.

Heartbeat, but that could just be her body hitting the ground. A slow blink that she wasn't aware of taking, and she sees her father on the sidelines, stepping forward before Verde could, nearly screaming into his watch.

For the first time in her life, she witnessed Reborn unhinged, unrestrained. Panicked. She wondered why.

Last heartbeat before black,

She saw a tall figure step out in front of her. She did not recognize him at first, but remembered a similar figure from her imagination as a child. She nearly laughed, the action translating as a gargled cough; she wasn't exactly in a proper state to run into anyone's arms at the moment.

She felt gloved hands touch her, but her attention was entirely on the figure, vague realization hitting her suddenly just as black overtook her vision.

"…. Father?"

(Huh. She _did_ have his cheekbones)

* * *

She had been sure she was dreaming of Mateus. But when she opened her eyes, it was Meilin she awoke to. The woman smiled softly at Ausiliatrice, and then lowered her hands, moving her wheelchair closer to the bed. She hesitated, but Ausiliatrice nodded, allowing Meilin to reach and take Ausiliatrice's hand in hers.

Ausiliatrice took a breath, and nearly scrunched her nose, realizing that it hurt to breath. Another breath, far more calmed and controlled, and she tried to recall what happened, only to curse loudly when she remembered:

" _Fuck_. I fucking wanted to fight him."

Meilin blinked, then let out a loud, surprised laugh.

"That's your first thought when you wake up? That you wanted to fight your own father?"

"Don't you?" Ausiliatrice asked flatly, blinking slowly. She grimaced and raised a slow hand to her chest, which she found was covered in bandages.

"You have Mukuro to thank for that," Meilin said softly, gently squeezing the hand she was still holding, "He used his illusions to make another heart for you. Dino's men are looking for a donor, but until then, his illusions will hold up. Squalo's the same way, but with Mammon. He was concerned you know," Meilin said, frowning and squeezing her hand again, "Mukuro. Dino. All of us. I heard how you were cut down, but not without getting a good shot in…" she trailed off with a forced smile.

"Meilin," Ausiliatrice started slowly, "What happened? I remember my…. I remember Reborn," uncursed, fighting, and she was annoyed she did not get to witness him in his full glory, "What about Tsunayoshi? Did his plan work?"

"If you mean that the curse was broken, then yes," Meilin started, a bit awkwardly. Ausiliatrice barely narrowed her eyes.

"They're still children, aren't they?" she guessed easily, letting out a disappointed sigh. Meilin nodded softly, letting go of Ausiliatrice's hand.

"We think that they'll grow normally from now on, at least," she shrugged, pushing back concern, "that's what we're hoping."

"At least," Ausiliatrice said, slumping back and allowing herself a moment of peace, closing her eyes and breathing in and out before continuing, "the cycle is broken."

She frowned however, lifting her head back up in realization; her entire life she had blamed the distance and absence of her father on the curse of the Arcobaleno. But what would she blame it on now?

"How are you adapting?" Ausiliatrice quickly changed the subject, nodding to Meilin's wheelchair.

"Its…. A change," Meilin admitting with a bare wince, "but honestly, as long as I'm there for my daughter, I'm content with never walking again." Ausiliatrice frowned, and hesitated,

And then surprised Meilin by holding out her hand, reaching out for the other woman. Meilin met Ausiliatrice's eyes, and took her hand, allowing Ausiliatrice to envelope it.

"I'm sorry," Ausiliatrice repeating, bring her friend's hand to her lips and murmuring into it, "I'm sorry."

"Please," Meilin said, giving a sad, soft smile. She took her other hand, pulling them back from Ausiliatrice's lip, and interlocking their fingers, "Don't be. I'm alive, thanks to you."

"You're crippled because of me," Ausiliatrice argued, harsh. She regretted her words as soon as they left her lips. But she did not vocalize this resentment (but Meilin recognized it anyway).

"I'm alive. I'm well, I'm still with my family. I'm happy," Meilin said this as a promise, never to be broken. "And besides," she said with a bubble of laughter,

"this gives me to opportunity to work with my illusions more."

* * *

Xanxus stared at Ausiliatrice careful as she examined what remained of his arm, her dark eyes traveling carefully over the uneven skin. His eyes the traveled from her hand, touching his skin gently (and he steeled himself, nearly shivering from her touch), up her arm and to her chest, bandages peeking from the collar of her shirt. He winced, the image of her pierced in his mind, the image of Squalo pierced, and the feeling of his own arm getting ripped off.

If it hadn't been for the hitman (her father?) finishing Jager and holding Bermuda himself off until Tsunayoshi arrived, Xanxus was sure he would have lost more than just one arm.

His eyes traveled again, taking in the features she shared with her father this time (features he was able to witness and notice, features Ausiliatrice herself wouldn't be able to compare for years), and it was only when he reached her eyes again that he realize that she had been speaking.

"Prosthetics?" she asked again, raising an amused eyebrow, "Are you going to get prosthetic arm?" He hummed gruffly, nodding. A moment, then a rugged shrug, considering again.

"I suppose Squalo already has those connections if you need them," she muttered, looking once more at his wound and then pulling her hands away. Xanxus nearly frowned at this, but did nothing. She opened her mouth, and then closed it, hesitating.

"You're leaving, aren't you," Xanxus guessed.

"With Kyoya and Chrome."

This, however, surprised him.

"Why?" he nearly sneered. She clicked her tongue, and immediately he regretted his tone.

"After all of this…. I'm not ready to settle, I've realized. And I want my students to witness the world more. To gain more opportunities, and I might as well be there with them. I'm not…. Ready to be bound yet. Not quite."

"So then, eventually?" he asked carefully. Her eyes moved from the window she had been staring out, meeting his once more.

"Can you wait?" she asked with the same amount of caution.

(Trust? Forgiveness? Can you imagine)

He had never been the type for patience. But for her?

He clicked his tongue, and allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, eyes shifting to the window to look out with Ausiliatrice.

"Don't take too fucking long."

And she smiled, allowing herself to put more weight on the bed she was sitting on as well, her hand falling into proximity of where his hand would have been.

"Thank you, Xanxus."

* * *

"Chrome just told Tsunayoshi," Bianchi said as she entered, waiting after knocking on the door and Ausiliatrice calling her in, "You can tell he's sad, but I think he's glad that she's going with you. Do you know how long you're going to be gone?"

"Kyoya will no doubt come back sooner," Ausiliatrice said with a placid smile, putting her guns back in the holsters after checking them. She rose form sitting on the bed, continuing, "But I'm expecting to be gone for a year or more with Chrome. Illusionist often draw from experience, and I want her to experience the world."

"Not like she can do that in a short field trip," Bianchi agreed. She frowned, however, realizing that Ausiliatrice had packed the last of the few things she had, "But I am sad you're leaving so soon."

"Sticking your nose where you shouldn't again?" Ausiliatrice teased, but it was laced with warning.

"You shouldn't leave without saying goodbye," Bianchi nearly pleaded, frowning as she leaned against the wall, "After all that's happened."

"Who said she is?" A voice squeaked from the door. Bianchi blinked, and looked to see Reborn entering. He titled his fedora to her, and nodded to Ausiliatrice.

"Bianchi," he indicated to the door. She hesitated, and then smiled, looking to Ausiliatrice before leaving.

"Don't be a stranger. Please," Bianchi said, nodding to Ausiliatrice one last time before exiting. Reborn nearly hesitated, then entered, hopping up on the bed to sit. Ausiliatrice chose the window to lean against, facing her father. A moment, soft wind entering through the open window, sunlight filtering gently through and illuminating the hospital room softly.

"What would," Reborn began, taking off his hat and sitting it beside him, "your mother think of all of this."

"Annoying," Ausiliatrice answered almost immediately, "She would think of all of this as a bother."

"And you?" He questioned, meeting her eyes (such a pure reflection of his own). She took a moment, before answering.

"Annoying," she answered, then with a tilt of her head, added, "but interesting. Not without an incentive." As always, her words struck Reborn as odd, but he was proud in a way, beginning to gain a bit more understanding when talking to his daughter.

"You have to leave, don't you," he stated suddenly. She nodded, absolute.

"I'm her daughter too. And besides," she said with a twitch of a smile, "I want to wait a few years before fighting you. Tsunayoshi already told you I wanted to."

"He may have mentioned something," Reborn admitted, lifting his hat to return to his head before hopping off the bed.

"I may be her daughter," Ausiliatrice said, stopping him before he left, "but I _will_ be back. I just…" she hesitated, before continuing, clearly conflicted and yet determined? Such an anomaly, as all human emotions were.

"I just need to be unbound, for a little bit longer. While I'm still young."

( _"I'll be back"_ )

( _"Always"_ )

But this time, he knew it wasn't a lie.

And for the second time, he watched a woman he loved dearly walk away from him without reaching out to her. But he knew, this time, that another chance would come to reach back.

And this time, when she was ready, he would be ready to embrace it.

(he too, needed more time, he realized. For he too, was still young)

* * *

 _"It's not time to make a change_  
 _Just relax, take it easy_  
 _You're still young, that's your fault_  
 _There's so much you have to know_  
 _Find a girl, settle down_  
 _If you want you can marry_  
 _Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy_

 _I was once like you are now, and I know that it's not easy_  
 _To be calm when you've found something going on_  
 _But take your time, think a lot_  
 _Why, think of everything you've got_  
 _For you will still be here tomorrow_  
 _But your dreams may not_

 _How can I try to explain_  
 _Cause when I do he turns away again_  
 _It's always been the same, same old story_  
 _From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen_  
 _Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away_  
 _I know I have to go"_

 _- **"Father and Son", Cat Stevens**_

* * *

Through the tint of her sunglasses, Ausiliatrice faced the horizon, a smile barely tugging at her lips. She lifted her chin, letting her hair tangle with the wind that fled across the almost empty runway. With arms crossed, she leaned against her bike, watching her student share goodbyes with his family, holding his young cousin one more time before they leave. Already, it seemed like Fon had grown, and briefly she wondered if her father had grown any taller in the mere hours since they shared their own goodbyes.

Her eyes slid to her other side, watching as Chrome said goodbye to her own family; Ken biting his lower lip defiantly, clearly holding back tears, Chikusa smiling softly, watching as Fran held the edge of Chrome's skirt, only to let go as Chrome went forward,

Surprising Mukuro with a hug.

Heterochromatic eyes shot accusingly to Ausiliatrice, who weakly stifled her laughter. They had already exchanged their goodbyes, Ausiliatrice thanking Mukuro deeply for saving her life. But Mukuro simply took this in stride, still believing it to be natural to do something of such magnitude for her. She knew it was for Mateus, and so she let him have that with little argument.

"So, you're really going, huh?" Dino asked causing her head to turn to him. "I know, I know," he said with a smile, holding his hands up, "You have to. Still not done, huh? Traveling?"

"It's in my nature to," she said, looking toward the horizon again. Soon, she noted, the sun would set.

"I'll wait for you, you know," Dino said suddenly, growing red when she looked to him again. He swallowed, hard, and spoke again, "And if you're never ready, that's okay too. I just want you to know that, yeah?"

She opened her mouth, and then moved to put her sunglasses on top of her head, making sure he could see her eyes.

"I know, Dino," she said softly, holding out her hand. He blinked, still red, and placed his in hers, surprised when she lifted it to her lips before letting him go. "I know. Thank you."

Her head snapped suddenly, looking to Chrome and then Kyoya.

"Let's go," she said simply, gesturing with her head, "I want to beat the sun."

Hibari Kyoya huffed, then nodded to his family before throwing his leg over his own bike, parked beside Ausiliatrice's. Chrome blushed, hugging each and every one of her family once more before running to Ausiliatrice, getting on the back of her tutor's bike, looking for consent before wrapping her arms around Ausiliatrice's waist, embracing the woman tightly. '

Ausiliatrice took a breath, looking at those around her, thinking of those she said goodbye to, before looking once more to her destination;

The horizon and sun greeting her, mere hours before their collision. She grinned, baring her teeth before passing Chrome her helmet, choosing to let her hair run wild in the wind.

"I'm about to teach you my favorite lesson," she addressed Chrome before starting her bike, Kyoya already prepare and waiting to go, "You know what that is, Chrome?"

The girl, helmet already donned, simply shook her head.

Ausiliatrice revved her bike, shooting forward suddenly and leaving those behind her in soft dust, laughing as they went forward towards destinations unknown, yelling back to her student,

"Freedom!"

And they were off, as if heading towards the sun itself, without fear of melting.

* * *

 _"Here was peace. She pulled in her horizon like a great fish net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see."_

 ** _-Their Eyes Were Watching God_**

* * *

 _AN:_

 _ **POLL:** Okay, since there is a lot of varied support, I put a poll up on my profile on who you want Ausiliatrice to end up with, since I left it kind of open this chapter. Next chapter will actually show Ausiliatrice later in life (and will actually start with a timeskip), and I may do different versions with Dino and Xanxus depending on the poll. Also I'm just curious. So go check it out and vote! Or just tell me through a review, I'll tally those too._

 _Next chapter will be the final Story chapter, which will be Her Mother Taught Her To Love (Finale). So be prepared for emotions, lmao. And then, I'll finish it up with the AUs, If He Had Lived, and finally a glossary/index type thing where I'll go through (while doing a final spellcheck) and list out all the references and allusions I put in if anyone is interested. Let me know if you guys want anything else and I'll see if I can add it in, and as always, you can always request things from my tumblr blog._

 _So far for the AUs (and what pairing they will involve, if there is one involved) I have:_

 _Naruto (Ausil x Itachi? Or Ausil x Konan I'm actually leaning more towards that one)_

 _RWBY (Ausil and Mateus will already be together)_

 _Avatar/Legend of Korra (Ausil and Mateus)_

 _One Piece (Ausil x Robin)_

 _Beauty and the Beast (Ausil x Xanxus)_

 _Harry Potter (Ausil and Mateus, maybe Ausil x Xanxus?)_

 _Marvel/Black Panther (Ausil x T'Challa)_

 _Mafia School AU (Ausil x Xanxus)_

 _College AU (Probs Ausil x Dino?)_

 _And Let me know if I forgot one requested or if you guys want another one._

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **fianna2452:** Haha, glad that you eventually continued it! And aw, thanks for liking my writing! Hope you enjoy the rest of the chapters, and thanks for the review!_

 _-Evenly_


	42. Lesson 42: To Love (Finale)

**Chapter 42: Her Mother Taught Her to Love (Finale)**

* * *

 _"it was when i stopped searching for home within others_

 _and lifted the foundations of home within myself_

 _i found there were no roots more intimate_

 _than those between a mind and body_

 _that have decided to be whole"_

 ** _-Rupi Kaur_**

* * *

She walked like a mirage, her long hair (dark and sleek and shimmering), nearly ribbons in the wind in her wake. She drew attention and seemed to slip by, simultaneously. And even though she had changed (grown, and done so beautifully) in the past three years,

Tsunayoshi recognized Chrome Dokuro immediately when he saw her, stepping outside of the school gates, flanked by Gokudera and Yamamoto as always.

"Boss," she greeted with soft smile and an elegant half-bow. Tsunayoshi blushed at this, although having grown far more calmed in these last few years, seeing how beautiful (and strong, he can see in in the air around her) Chrome has become. Yamamoto Takeshi, however, overcame this awe far faster than the other two, laughing brightly and going forward to sling an arm around his fellow guardian, loudly stating intentions of catching up with the mist guardian.

And soon, they did exactly this, sitting outside of a quaint coffee shop and exchanging excitable words, filling Chrome in on the endless array of shenanigans that occurred in her absence, and Chrome filling them in on her adventures throughout the world.

"When Hibari came back a few months after you guys left," Tsunayoshi sating, recalling how the cloud guardian came back strong as well, even after so little time, "I thought you would be coming back soon too, but…" he trailed off awkwardly, but Chrome smiled softly, picking it up for him:

"I had a lot more to see than Kyoya," she admitted with a small shrug, taking a dainty hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. It had far outgrown her earlier hairstyle, a mimic of Mukuro's. Now it was long, hanging loosely from the braids that held half of it up, the lower half waterfalling on her shoulders and beyond that, ending just below her breasts. It was long, he realized, just like Ausiliatrice's. Her eye patch was the same, the same skull displayed on it, but Tsunayoshi also spied new piercings, like constellations on her ears. And was that a tattoo (flowers, but just the outlines) peeking out on her collar bone, and vining slighting up her neck?

But that was only physical changes he noted. The air around her, as he had noticed earlier, was different. She seemed more in tune with, well with everything around her, noticing far more than she did in the past. Her one eye seemed to drift, and yet noticed: every detail, every movement, her eyes took in, and stored this information. Every person that walked by was evaluated, every sound was taken note of. And he had no doubt that every detail she saw would later come into use, some way, somehow.

Truly, she had changed. But he had as well, with Reborn still training him after all these years.

"Where," Tsunayoshi blinked suddenly realizing (thinking of his tutor and feeling a pang for the hitman), "is Ausiliatrice? Didn't she come back with you?"

Chrome's smile nearly hesitated, and then, it grew. She laughed a bit, titled her head, amused. She shifted, bringing her purse from it's place, draped over the back of her chair before digging through it.

"She's not…." She trailed off, looking for the right words, "She's not quite done travelling yet. But," she lifted paper – no, an envelope – out of her purse, and handed it to Tsunayoshi.

"She did," Chrome said, look with a soft eye at the envelope, "want me to give you guys this."

And tenderly, Tsunayoshi took the envelope, flipping it over to see a single word (six letters, to be exact), scrawled on it in slightly messy handwriting. A moment, and then the future boss of the Vongola Family grinned, letting out a chuckle.

"I'll be sure to give it to him."

* * *

Black eyes (abyssal) glared at the man as he passed by; once lecherous eyes now quickly looked away from her harsh gaze, and quickly, he continued on his way up, eventually leaving first class and exiting the plane. Letting out a quick puff of air, Ausiliatrice allowed the other passengers to exit the plane before her, choosing to be one of the last to leave.

With her thumb, she flicked through her phone until coming across a familiar, but for so long unused number. Without hesitation, she selected it, and put the phone gently to her ear,

Smiling lightly when a familiar voice answered.

"If you're done waiting… I think," she said slowly, "that I'm ready."

"I just need to do something first."

(she could make them wait a bit longer)

* * *

Reborn stepped next to his daughter, looking at the vacant lot in front of them. A simple chain link fence barred them for entering, a blaring red and white sign reading of it's rentability posted on it. Two newly erect buildings stood as buttresses on either side, and people milled around the urbanized area.

"Glad," his daughter greeted him, lifting her sunglasses and sparing him a single glance (and again, he was awestruck by the sight of his own eyes staring down at him) before turning her eyes back to the lot in front of them, "you got my message."

"After three years," Reborn said, hoping it came across as light hearted, but wincing when it sounded snarky, "It was nice to hear anything."

Reborn waited, and then released a breath he didn't know he was holding when he heard a single chuckle from Ausiliatrice.

"This used to be much more…" Ausiliatrice said suddenly, considering her words carefully, "Isolated. But recently, the city has put what used to be old, abandoned buildings to use. Burned down buildings, to be specific," she added, her voice taking a strangely darker tone.

Reborn remained silent, allowing her to continue. He was now tall enough to be just below her hip. He had grown in the past three years, a lot. But he assumed she had as well.

"This is where she died, you know," Ausiliatrice said suddenly. Reborn blinked once, and looked to his daughter.

"Who?" he asked, uselessly, already knowing the answer.

"She burned down the building herself," Ausiliatrice continued, "after they cornered her."

And he didn't have to ask who 'they' were. This was not the time for useless questions, he knew. A moment, just the sound of the city and people around them, passing by without a thought. And he made a simple statement.

"That is just like her, isn't it?" he said, rather hollow.

"To leave things in flames," Ausiliatrice finished. Reborn opened his mouth, and then closed it. Ausiliatrice took this opportunity to speak instead.

"I'm not," she started slowly, but then restated, "I'm like Esmeralda in many ways. And I'm like you…. In a lot of others," and a swell of pride hit me, hearing his own daughter state this.

"But," she said, calling her father's attention back to her, "I'm my own person, with my own experiences, separate from my parents. I need you to know this."

Reborn closed his eyes, then opened them, looking to his daughter.

"I do."

Ausiliatrice let out a breath, slow deliberate.

"Thank you," she said, then added with small smirk, "Father."

"Are we there yet?" Reborn asked curiously, looking back to the empty lot (trying to imagine what it was like in flames).

"Don't know," Ausiliatrice answered honestly, shrugging. She added, still with a smirk, "What do you think about grandchildren?" Reborn was surprised.

"You want to have kids?"

(after what happened, after the kind of parents she had, was what he wanted to ask, but didn't)

"You don't know me at all," she stated instead, with the bare twinge of her lips, "if you're this surprised."

"I…" Reborn hesitated, and then huffed, annoyed that he would be this hesitant (but with her, his daughter? He always finds himself surprised), "I think I would like to. Get to know you, I mean."

A moment, and Reborn felt each and every heartbeat. Then:

"I think," Ausiliatrice answered slowly, "I would like that too."

"You want to get… coffee?" Reborn asked, nearly wincing at the crack in his voice. He was still growing, he reminded himself, and not all of that was pleasant. But he perked up, hearing the light (wonderful) sound of his Ausiliatrice's laughter, not even feeling embarrassed at the reason why. He was simply happy, to hear his daughter's laugh.

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

 _"-i said to the sun 'tell me about the big bang'_

 _-the sun said 'it hurts to become'"_

 **END**

* * *

 **PAIRINGS**

 _"We are not one person. How lonely would that be! A couple who has made themselves one so completely that they are once again alone. We are two people. Separate. Unique. And joined only where we choose to join."_

 ** _-Welcome to Night Vale_**

* * *

 **XANXUS**

 _"I don't care if I fall in love to a devil, as long as that devil will love me the way he loves hell."_

* * *

"Didn't she just come in a few hours ago?" Fran commented, nearly having to yell over the loud, angry exclamations in the next room.

"And they're already going at. It's impressive, isn't it?" Belphegor noted with a snicker and a flick of silver. Fran frowned, moving his head to the side to avoid the knife thrown at him.

"Aren't they supposed, you know? Like each other?" The illusionist continued, plopping down in a chair. He barely winced, hearing shattering glass form the other room, followed by more shouting.

"Relax," Squalo called from his chair, flipping to the next page of his book. A calm sip of wine, and he continued, "He would never throw anything directly at her. Or hurt her at all," he added with a roll of his eyes.

(Not again, Squalo thought with a frown, not _ever_ again after what happened in the future, the incident still a fresh, gushing wound in Xanxus's mind)

"Just watch, in the morning, they'll be fucking peachy."

Squalo, however, proved himself right in a rather unfortunate way the next morning.

"Hey, I ne- God fucking dammit, put some fucking clothes on!" Squalo hissed, immediately shielding his eyes and looking away from the bed after entering Xanxus's room.

"We're fully clothed," Ausiliatrice murmured, pushing herself up from where she had nestled in the crook of Xanxus's neck, "Or at least," she admitted, looking at Xanxus's bare torso, sending an accusing glance at his lower half, hidden by the covers, "I am."

Xanxus simply grumbled, shutting his eyes tighter as the light from the open door fell across his face. He squinted his eyes, glaring at Squalo before looking at Ausiliatrice. A moment of eye contact, and a gentle arm tugged her back to his side.

"Whatever, just get the fuck up soon, shitty boss," Squalo grumbled, slamming the door in the wake of his exit. Xanxus grumbled once, repositioning and pulling Ausiliatrice closer to him. He opened his eyes and softened his grip however, noticing that she did not react to this movement.

"I want to get up."

He grumbled in response, but allowed her to rise for his embrace.

"Why."

"We have to eventually," she simply replied, almost as a tease. Rising fully from the bed, she went to remove her shirt, revealing her bare back to him as she walked to her bag across the room. Xanxus's eyes followed her, gazing at the ragged, still bright wound across her back. Still healing, but there none the less.

"Don't start again," Ausiliatrice said, feeling his eyes on her, "Please."

"I don't like it," he stated simply, finally rising from the bed, the covers falling and pooling around him. She allowed her eyes to follow his scars, tracing them momentarily before turning to finish dressing.

"It would happen either way, at your side or not, Xanxus," she said, rehashing their argument from the night before, but in a much softer tone.

"I don't want to be your cloud guardian, Xanxus," she told him, making eye contact, "You know that. I'm happy enough," she said, sitting on the bed with him once more, maintaining eye contact as she lifted a hand to the side of his face, her thumbs tracing his scar, "with my life now."

"Are you?" he asked again, raising a hand (his only hand, with his habit to forgo his prosthetic entirely) to hold hers, leaning into her embrace. He frowned, however, as her hand slipped from his, and she rose again, moving away from him.

"Why even question it," she asked, clearly angered again.

"Ausiliatrice, wait," he called out, nearly wincing as she tried to walk out, "Please."

And with her hand on the door handle, she would have walked out if not for his next words stopping her;

"I want to have a kid, Ausiliatrice."

She stopped, and turned to him suddenly, her eyes wide, wary. Suddenly, offended.

"Is this just to keep me safe, to keep me- "

"No," he said suddenly, rising. A moment, and she took a breath, calming herself as he stepped toward her, carefully examining her expression as he reached and embraced her hand in his.

Another moment, red eyes staring into abyssal. And she moved forward, gently, placing her forehead against his.

"Are you scared?" She asked him quietly. And he held back a snarl, wanting to say – to claim that he never had been. But the truth?

He didn't want to lie to her, and she knew the truth anyway.

"You want one, don't you?" He asked instead, taking a ragged breath, calming himself. With her hand still entwined with his, she lowered them to just below her stomach.

"That carries no obligation to you," she reminded him, speaking carefully, "I want your consent, fully. To start a family because you want one as well. Not just to keep me safe, not to prolong the Vongola. I want a child so I - _we_ ," she corrected solemnly, "can bring life into this world and care for them. No other reason."

He gazed in her eyes once more, asking – before kissing her deeply, allowing her to break this contact seconds later when she elicited enough of that kind of exchange. But instead of retreating, Ausiliatrice leaned forward again, foreheads touching. They breathed in deeply, together, and exhaled, united.

"I want a boy, though," Xanxus gruffly admitted, causing Ausiliatrice's eyes to snap open from their calm closing.

"That," she said with a bare twitch of her lip, "may be an issue."

* * *

 _"tell me the story_

 _About how the sun_

 _Loved the moon so much_

 _He died every night_

 _To let her breath."_

* * *

"Your son is up."

"Before sunrise, he's your son."

"Bullshit." A moment, another string of loud guitar noises, and then Ausiliatrice spoke again, "We don't know if they want to be a son or a daughter today yet."

Xanxus grumbled once in agreement, throwing a lazy arm around Ausiliatrice's waist – hesitating – then pulling her closer to him.

"You should go ask them then," he mumbled into her hair, "And while you're at it, make them stop that noise." Ausiliatrice hummed, tiredly but amused, pushing herself from Xanxus's grip and sliding from their bed.

"Don't stifle their creativity," she teased before exiting. Softly, her bare feet padded down the hallway, stopping at the room next to theirs. She waited for the loud guitar noise to cease once more before knocking, waiting, and then only entering after a yell of confirmation.

Black, void-filled eyes spared her an apologetic glance, before her child slipped the guitar strap off of themselves, placing it gently on the bed before sitting on it. They lifted a hand, pushing a few dreadlocks behind their ear, the feather Xanxus had put in the night before still present.

"Sorry, Mom," Cecil said, still guilty, "I forgot what time it was, and I couldn't sleep and-"

They stopped speaking however, when Ausiliatrice sat beside her child, maintaining eye contact, and pressed her forehead to theirs. Both breathed in deeply, and exhaled.

"Are you a lion," Ausiliatrice asked, her hand going to play with the locks of their hair, "or a lioness today?"

"I think maybe…" they took their time answering, "I don't know if I'm feeling either." Ausiliatrice hummed in acknowledgement, before falling back on the bed, gently pulling Cecil with her. Although they groaned, the sound muffled by their mother's hair that had fallen into their face in the fall, they allowed this, relaxing in Ausiliatrice's embrace.

"You going to get up, or what?" They asked after a beat, realizing that Ausiliatrice's eyes were closed.

"This is what you get for waking us up. Besides," Ausiliatrice said, cracking one eyes open, meeting theirs

(and for the hundredth time since they were born, she wanted to smile, to be relieved, to see those eyes and feel so much love for them)

"Would you rather your father have come in here?"

Barely, they paled, color draining only slightly from their warm skin (only a few shades lighter than her own). They let out a small, nervous laugh, and then shook their head.

"He doesn't like the music thing, does he?"

"Love," she said gently, placing a hand on her child's cheek, "He doesn't much like anything loud. But he'll get over it," she muttered, keeping her hand on their cheek, taking in their features:

They had Xanxus's nose, skin closer to hers, hair still curly (but now bound in locks), but not as wild as hers;

They had her eyes. Her father's eyes, onyx and endless. She had feared this, always, before this child was born. But once they were in her arms, this child looking up with void-filled eyes…. How could she do nothing but love them? Love everything about her own child, because who would she be if she didn't?

Ausiliatrice wanted nothing more than to cherish this being she brought into this world with Xanxus, and to protect them in every way, nurture and care.

The door opened suddenly, nearly kicked in, and Xanxus appeared, his one arm holding the blanket from their bed around his shoulders.

"Dad?" Cecil asked, before they were once again muffled as Xanxus plopped down on the bed with them. The guitar made a loud sound of distress as it hit the ground, causing Cecil to wince; ah, but this was normal, wasn't it?

"Cold," Xanxus muttered just once before nuzzling himself in Ausiliatrice hair.

"Liar," she called him out, but did nothing. Cecil sighed once, but accepted both his father's and mother's embrace, once again likening the two of them to lions. However, they considered, feeling warm and sleepy for once,

They were happy to a part of this pride.

"Cecilio or Cecilia?" Xanxus asked, remembering to ask before he forgot.

"Cecil," his child answered before yawning.

Ausiliatrice sighed happily, feeling this same warmth, breathing deeply in,

And she was on the savanna, in the arms of those that she loved (sitting in her mother's lap, looking up at the moon).

She breathed in deeply, holding those that she loved, and exhaled calmly.

She was home.

* * *

 _"There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word."_

 ** _-Walt Whitman_**

* * *

 **DINO**

 _"I want you any way I can get you. Not because you're beautiful or clever or kind or adorable, although devil knows you're all of those things. I want you because there's no one else like you, and I don't ever want to start a day without seeing you."_

 ** _-Lisa Kleypass_**

* * *

They were silent, sitting in proximity, but careful not to touch. Ausiliatrice stared at the bright blood on her hands, glistening in the fluorescents of the tube and enhanced by the few lights they passed, flickering through the cabin. Dino sat beside her, twiddling with his hands (clean, pristine). They were alone, entirely,

Aside from the two bodies that lay at Ausiliatrice's feet, leaking fluids across the already feet-trodden floor of the tube. Assassin's that had come to kill either Ausiliatrice or Dino. They weren't sure who, but in the end, it didn't really matter did it?

Dino nearly jumped when the subway came to a slow halt, announcing it's next station. Ausiliatrice rose easily, holding out a hand (bloodied), allowing Dino to exit first –

The lone man waiting to board took a wise look at Ausiliatrice's bloodied attire, and chose to enter another doorway just as it closed. A moment, and Ausiliatrice walked forward, giving Dino a glance

(guilty?)

Before no doubt going to erase what evidence she could.

"Ausil, wait – " Dino called out, reaching out. But he immediately retracted his hand when her head whipped around, eyes glinting in the dingy lighting.

"Just," Ausiliatrice snapped, then paused, forcing herself to take a breath. "Just let me do this, Dino. Please."

And he nodded, letting her go. An hour later she found him again, waiting on a bench in the cold, the London Eye spiraling just to their left, illuminating the scene. Due to the time of night, they were alone, with only a few others swiftly passing.

She sat down without speaking, and he allowed another moment before doing so.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Ausil."

"What for." It was far more of a statement.

"This was supposed to be… a vacation of sorts, just relaxing before we had to travel again," Dino said with a sigh and a forced smile, running a hand through his hair, other hand in his coat pocket, "and I was hoping it would be more romantic than this honestly…." He trailed off with laughter, still forced, still forced.

"How _romantic_ ," Ausiliatrice sneered, looking down at her own hands, "a night ending in blood. But," I suppose, she admitted (almost sad), leaning back and allowing her arms to fall at her side, "it fits."

Another moment, just the city of London, breathing.

"Dino," she said with a sigh, "I don't know if this – "

"Ausiliatrice, wait," he said, suddenly standing. He blinked, then turned red, realizing he was looking down at her. Coughing into his hand, he stepped back, and Ausiliatrice couldn't help but smile smally at his actions, having grown used this this over their years together.

"Ausil," he began again, putting one arm behind his back, the other still in his coat pocket, "Ausil, I know you're…. well, not scared, you're never," he said with a grin, appreciative, "scared. But I know you're…. apprehensive? Unsure about a relationship. A relationship with me, and yeah, a lot of this stuff happens," and here he gestures, referring to their night, the assassins, all the attempts on their lives when they were together,

"And I know that you blame that on yourself, Ausil. I know," he said before she could open her mouth, her eyebrows knitting together in annoyance, "I know you blame yourself, even though it's not – it's never your fault. I want you to know, I love you," he nearly chocked on the words, his hand tightening on the object in his pocket, "No matter how much danger you think you bring with you, I love you."

Ausiliatrice took a breath, and stood with a melancholy smile.

"Dino," she said, his name leaving as a loving sigh. She hesitated, almost taking a step towards him before turning, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Dino," she said again with another breath, "Sometimes I just think…. You forget what I am. An assassin, a killer, a _predator_. I know you've been involved in this life too, but you've never been as deep as me. You've never had this much blood, directly on your hands…. and you're right," she said, nearly choking the words out, "It does scare me."

"Ausil…." She heard him mutter, but spoke again before he could.

"Different," she said with a smile, recalling, "is good, I know. Different can mean completion but sometimes I wonder… what if I'm too different for you – "

"Ausil, please – "

"I need you to know that I'm fine with killing, murdering, covering things up for my own gains. I'm not like you and Tsuna, or even Reborn, my own father who has grown morals from years of playing with _children_ ," Ausiliatrice said with a sad chuckle and slight roll of her head, "I think I love you too, but I don't want you hurt because of who I am – "

"Ausil, please," she heard him call again, "Please turn around."

She sighed, and rolled her eyes, letting her arms fall as she turned on her heel,

Only to find Dino on one knee, holding up a ring to her.

She blinked once. He stared.

"What the fuck."

"I know, I know," he said quickly, rising and holding his hands up in defense, being careful to keep a strong grip on the ring, "I know that you don't think I'm that strong, and I'm nowhere near you, you or Reborn, or even Xanxus but – But," he calmed, taking a breath, "I don't care about that, okay? Because, I mean, you're my body guard, so it's okay if I'm not as strong, right? That's why you're here, at my side. To protect me, and when I can, I'll protect you. Promise," he said, looking her straight in the eyes and offering the ring again.

Ausiliatrice blinking once more, and careful lifted a hand to inspect the ring; a simple gold wedding band.

"It was my mom's," Dino explained, allowing her to hold it, "and so it might not fit exactly, but I didn't really think that mattered, since, you know," he gestured at the chain around her neck, holding another mother's ring.

( _"I don't wear rings"_ )

( _"We can find you a chain"_ )

"It's a good thing," Ausiliatrice said, encasing the ring in one hand, and reaching for Dino's hand with her other, "that I already have a chain."

* * *

 _"It was a secret time and place, you next to me, untraceable and out of this world."_

 ** _– Daniel Handler_**

* * *

"Valeriana? We can call her Val!"

"No. Tarsilla?"

"Silla, then?"

Black eyes snapped up to her husband, and carefully, Ausiliatrice shifted their child in her arms. Dino gave her a forced grin, mocking innocence. Light brown, nearly amber eyes watched her parents curiously, and let out an bell-like giggle, dissuading the faux tension between them.

"Why," Ausiliatrice stated, looking away from Dino and smile down at their daughter (so far, unnamed) endearingly, lifting a gentle finger to brush away baby hairs (a dark, deep brown, but almost honey-like in the light?), "do you insist on shortening our daughter's name."

"I don't know, I think it's cute, don't you?" Dino said sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. A moment, and then they began again.

"Palmira?"

"Mira."

"Veriana."

"Ana!"

Ausiliatrice pursed her lips, thinking. Then, with one look to her daughter, she smiled once more, knowing.

"Andromeda," she said softly, brushing a finger against the baby's cheek. The child gurgled, then brought a tiny hand up to grab her mother's finger, "I think her name should be Andromeda."

Dino opened his mouth, thinking. But then promptly closed his mouth. Ausiliatrice smiled, nearly grinned at this, before Dino let out a relenting sigh.

"Andromeda it is."

* * *

 _AN:_

 _I will absolutely take any chance I had of ending a series (or really anything) with "sounds perfect", and brownie points to people who get the reference!_

 _I always knew that I would end it with Ausil and Reborn talking because, well, that's what the series is about. So if you're not interested in the pairings, you can just skip them completely, or just read the ones you liked. I originally was going to put Ausil and Dino together, so that's why there's a little more for them than for Xanxus, but from the poll, I couldn't just leave Xanxus out._

 _That being said, if you want to see more of these pairing and/or their kids, then please let me know and request things (either through pm or review here, or on the blog) and I'll see what I can do._

 _Although this is the official final story-chapter, next up I think I'll either do the AUs or If He had Lived (Part 2), and then after that will be the glossary. The (new!) AU list is as follows:_

 _Naruto (Ausil x Itachi and Ausil x Konan, just doing them both)_

 _RWBY (Ausil and Mateus will already be together)_

 _Avatar/Legend of Korra (Ausil and Mateus)_

 _One Piece (Ausil x Robin)_

 _Beauty and the Beast (Ausil x Xanxus)_

 _Harry Potter (Ausil and Mateus, maybe Ausil x Xanxus?)_

 _Marvel/Black Panther (Ausil x T'Challa) (Maybe Bucky now that I'm thinking about it?)_

 _Mafia School AU (Ausil x Xanxus)_

 _College AU (Probs Ausil x Dino?)_

 _Bleach AU (possibly, still thinking about this one since it's been a while since I've done anything with Bleach)_

 _Fairytale AU_

 _K Project (Possibly?)_

 _Death Note_

 _And, remember if you guys think of anything else you want to see, let me know~_

 _I'll probably have my own emotional spill in the glossary chapter, which will be the last chapter I post for this story, but for now, Thanks so much for reading! All the reviews, follows and favorites mean so much. Love you guys!_

 ** _Review Response:_**

 _ **naritaluv:** Yeah, Dino's kind of a mess, but at least he's a cute mess. Glad you're looking forward to the AUs, I've been having fun writing them. Thanks for the vote and for the review!_


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